Dear, Run.
Arrows in your
belly and ribs
and rear
you were once
wounded, dear.
Limping,
Heartsick,
Struggling to
catch up
green from
my successes.
But I have never
been
hidden, easy,
in the shade.
Little did
you know I was still
clad in bloodied skins.
I was running,
still running,
still running,
still running,
from you.
Why do you chase me still?
Or are you trying to outrun
me once again?
based on Pocahontas, by Annie Leibovitz
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Poets United Contributor
I love, love, love this. <3
ReplyDeleteaaw, thank you Dana. :)
ReplyDeleteI don't know what it is about this that I like, but I think it's probably "Why do you chase me still?
ReplyDeleteOr are you trying to outrun
me once again?" Because sometimes people don't think of the right motives, if that makes any sense?
precicely. you hit the nail on the head.
ReplyDeleteand you know who this is about too. ;)