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Poem

The night was young, and dark, and still
The little boy crouched down behind the hill
Car lights surfaced headed his way
He stayed hidden till they went away.

He had been walking for quite a while
He was tired and hungry - still just a child
Only eight years old, a wee little guy
He was scared and lonely, and began to cry.

He felt sorry about arguing with his mom
He wanted more than anything
To be resting in her arms
His emotions took over as he sat down in the road
It felt warm to his body, it felt warm to his soul.

He didn't notice the police car
As it came around the curve
The lights shone in his face
Then it began to swerve

The cop ran over, and grabbed him in his arms
He was so thankful
He hadn't caused him any harm!

He kneeled down on the pavement
Giving thanks he came this way
Or it may have been too late
For the little runaway!

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