These Scars

Poetry 2

He was running away,

When I met him.

The sight of the boy took my breathe away.

He’s free as the wind,

And he disappears as he comes.

He was born to be wild,

And it’s wrong to keep him locked up in my heart.

Why’d I think he’d stay for me?

He’ll be running free till he dies,

Can’t stay in one place for long.

His soul is a gypsy longing for a home.

But it can’t make up it’s mind where it lays.