Matthew Petrey

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Runaway

You dressed me in silk,
Crowned me with gold.
But I fled to the desert,
Where the nights grow cold.

You gave me a palace,
Filled with thousands of halls.
But I chose a home,
Made out of straw.

The foundation too weak,
And storms too strong.
Winds of my emotion,
Scattered it all.

Now lost in this place,
Without food, without water.
I long for my home,
I long for my Father.

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