The fear I spark,
Like they sense,
I escaped,
From behind bars,
I lerk the ready eye,
Jerking as they drive by,
They name me on the news,
But my disguise,
Is too good,
For anyone to see through,
Reaching my location,
My dream,
My Haven,
But for now i run,
Like the power,
In the barrel of a gun.
By James Aykroyd
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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