Wild Child
Wild Child
©2008
by:
John McCullough
I met a wild child on the road,
with a voice as big as a minute
That will stick with me for the rest of my life
In a hundred years or so,
she’ll be old enough to know me better
But for now she struggles to survive
Runaway what are you running from
What the hell could be so bad
that you would run away from home
Life on the road can be heaven or hell
Certainly not for the fragile and frail
Fly away butterfly, fly home
Or are you running toward tomorrow,
better times and better days
Or running from the dangers of the life of runaways
posted by silverthreads @ 5:41 PM
1 Comments:
Uncanny, your understanding of the situation of a runaway. This one has been truly seen and cared about by you. A drop in the bucket, maybe, or a pivot point. You may never know.
Just know your work is important, because it is.
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