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helenPoems
I knew it was wrong but if I stayed any longer I would be lost and my weakness would just get stronger So with just a small bag that was lighter on my back than the memories I left behind with all the emotions I lack I wandered down the road with my thumb stuck in the air I hoped that nobody stopped while I fretted that nobody cared Mile after mile my feet carried on and with my heart beat slow I stopped just to breathe as my feet sank into the snow When the car pulled to a stop next to me it could have been yesterday or tomorrow I didn’t know But I was grateful for the ride but wary of the unknown face that smiled at me across the miles no malice could I find a trace until the question came at me after Beethoven's Second Symphony became just a distant memory *My child, why do you run, in disgrace? What is really your fear?* And as my hands clench the seat belt trying to stop it from strangling me and as I count the mile markers that carve a mountain between you and me I can't answer the question that sits so insistently in my ear The unknown face beside me whispers I’m not the stranger here
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Sep 12, 2015
Sep 12, 2015 at 9:47 PM UTC
The Hitchhiker
I knew it was wrong but if I stayed any longer I would be lost and my weakness would just get stronger So with just a small bag that was lighter on my back than the memories I left behind with all the emotions I lack I wandered down the road with my thumb stuck in the air I hoped that nobody stopped while I fretted that nobody cared Mile after mile my feet carried on and with my heart beat slow I stopped just to breathe as my feet sank into the snow When the car pulled to a stop next to me it could have been yesterday or tomorrow I didn’t know But I was grateful for the ride but wary of the unknown face that smiled at me across the miles no malice could I find a trace until the question came at me after Beethoven's Second Symphony became just a distant memory *My child, why do you run, in disgrace? What is really your fear?* And as my hands clench the seat belt trying to stop it from strangling me and as I count the mile markers that carve a mountain between you and me I can't answer the question that sits so insistently in my ear The unknown face beside me whispers I’m not the stranger here
The Lost Collection ~Mar 19th 2011~
helen
Written by
helen
Australian
Sep 12, 2015
Sep 12, 2015 at 9:47 PM UTC
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