Aug 2019
The wind rips through
my meager clothes.
As I walk down the
long wooden rows.
The forest is dark
and dense.
My pain is severe
and intense.
There's little hope
to be found.
In cold
and desolate ground.
If I go back to school,
they'll beat me.
Out here natures wrath,
may defeat me.
Still I plod on,
Awake and alone.
Hundreds of
miles from home.
Staring at a
weathered old map
to keep alive
my hope to go back.
But I've got almost
nothing to give.
Very little of my life,
left to live.
I wonder: When
everything's over
will they remember
the kid from October?
my meager clothes.
As I walk down the
long wooden rows.
The forest is dark
and dense.
My pain is severe
and intense.
There's little hope
to be found.
In cold
and desolate ground.
If I go back to school,
they'll beat me.
Out here natures wrath,
may defeat me.
Still I plod on,
Awake and alone.
Hundreds of
miles from home.
Staring at a
weathered old map
to keep alive
my hope to go back.
But I've got almost
nothing to give.
Very little of my life,
left to live.
I wonder: When
everything's over
will they remember
the kid from October?
Written about Chanie Wenjack, a Canadian Inuit child who ran away from a religious school where he was abused and tried to hike 400 mils home in very cold weather. He made it only 13 miles before he collapsed and died on the tracks. You can look him up in Wikipedia for more info.
