elise.writer

If I could run away
Leave my battered crocs from 3 years ago
Crumpled at the ornate stone doorstep
Feel the prickling grass and the occasional
Sharp stick and stone on the scarred
Soles of my runaway feet

If I could fly away

To the 16-year-old girl who
Lived five miles down the road, not too far,
And knew, accepted mistakes of her own, learning from them,
Because she was not ready to be a mother

Now she will unwillingly suffer through birth

There's no storybook good and evil
We've all got a little bit of good, a little bit of evil
And yet we cease to grasp the fact that
Denying that drop of evil is what sparks even more to awaken

As a new dawn awakens may
The sun shower potential upon this new day
Shedding light upon grayed branches of slayed sprouts
Terminating their growth for the sake of
Economics and finances and appliances