The Runaway. Poem by Elisha Rose

Journey. My Dear,
But where are you going?
You have no idea, do you, my dear?
Yet you know you must get out,
Must break out, must rake out
You know you must shatter those
invisible bonds.

The countryside flashes by
The thundering, rumbling
Stacatto the rhythm that locomotes
in your veins
So this is what you have chosen
The easiest option
To get clear away
And lock up the pain.

As the distance increases
The bonds close to snapping
But no matter the distance the tape
keeps on spooling
Unbroken, lagatto, connected and
strong,
You can't severe a bond you've had along.

Are you running from home or just
from yourself?
You don't seem so sure-
And that cannot help
But you; re older, and wiser
You say to yourself
As the stammering train grinds to a halt.

As you step on the platform
Ropes quickly embrace you
For rght there on the station-

Your parents are waiting.