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Rated: E · Poetry · Drama · #2175040
Poem about two young girls running from an angry mob.
Hands clasped,
We ran,
Through the streets.
Climbing over their walls,
Stomping bushes, our pursuers not far.
Their thoughts of hate and painful death,
Their eyes reflect such loathing.

So hands clasped,
We ran hopelessly,
Sore feet splashing tiny streams.
Gasping for air and tears flowing,
How far could two girls go,
While the metal behind them gleamed,
And the river ahead roared.

With hands clasped,
We ran slowly,
Water up to our ankles.
Such a small mistake,
A pinch of this and that herb.
But seen through frightened eyes,
Our death had they sealed.

Our hands clasped,
As one we fell quickly,
Choking in the cold waters,
They would drown our dreams and lives.
A promise in their dead eyes gleaming,
Would suck away the truth.
And the lake was not that far.

Our hands clasped still clasped tight,
They took us,
To the lake, her waters blue and vast.
And beneath gentle waves,
They held us,
Their laughter loud in even water,
They took away our lives.

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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2175040-Run