John F. McCullagh
The Runaway Slave
I strain my ears at every sound
As I flee from Masters vast estate
I dare not walk upon the road-
must not be seen, alone, this late.
I hear the baying of his hounds
My absence has been noted there
Men with torches, men with guns,
My soul freezes me with fear.
I am the fox, his are the hounds
that I must run a desperate race
To fail is to be chained and whipped
Then sold – a horrid fate I face
The dogs grow close, but the river's near
I leap and overcome my fear.
The water will disguise my scent
With swift strong stokes I'll soon be clear
With joy I hear the hounds, confused,
barking, helpless, and at bay.
But master gets me in his sights
And sets me free another way.
I awaken from sleep with a start.
One nightmare stops, the next begins
I shower, shave and dress for work
and wonder if it ever ends..
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Comments about this poem (The Runaway Slave by John F. McCullagh )
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
A Dream Within A Dream
Edgar Allan Poe
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(13 September 1916 – 23 November 1990)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
William Butler Yeats
(13 June 1865 – 28 January 1939)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
- Daffodils, William Wordsworth
- Still I Rise, Maya Angelou
- If You Forget Me, Pablo Neruda
- The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
- I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings, Maya Angelou
- Dreams, Langston Hughes
- Phenomenal Woman, Maya Angelou
- Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night, Dylan Thomas
- Annabel Lee, Edgar Allan Poe
- If, Rudyard Kipling