He calls himself a runaway,
A bandit, a thief, a liar,
But I have seen a sacred place
Trapped inside of him,
And he is just as human
As he claims not to be.
He wanders the backroads at twilight,
Whistling, wondering, waiting,
Watching for a double rainbow;
He’s seen six, and is living for the seventh,
“Another sin,” he’ll say,
And maybe he’ll never find it,
Or perhaps he’ll be released, somehow.
Poem based on the prompt: Write a poem using the words and phrases "runaway," "double rainbow," "another sin," "somehow released," and "runaway."
You can find more of my poetry at caitlincacciatore.wordpress.com