Running, Running, Running - Poem by Scarlett Treat
The motel was ragged
With weeds grown all around.
Bottles, beer cans and crack pipes
Littered the unkempt ground.
The neon sign blinked constantly,
With its broken bulbs
Flashing its tilted playing card sign,
'One-eyed Jack's Motel.'
Drunks and dopers littered the steps,
Like so much city trash not picked up,
But it was home to her,
The only safe haven she knew.
The rooms were droopy
And sad, with their broken tile,
Cracked porcelain and seedy beds,
Soaked with the real smell of defeat.
She had run, and run, and run,
Just to get away from him - -
His hard, cruel pounding fists,
His cold, angry, hate-filled eyes.
But now, after a month of cowering here
In this motel's filth and degradation,
Waiting for his hot breath on her neck,
Somehow she knew she would never escape.
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