On the Run
The horses driven hard into the cold night rain
The wooden wheels groan under the strain
On the run now with no where to go
I got out of the village before they would not let me go
Mistaken they take me for someone else from before
Someone else killed those people but for it they want me to suffer more
This hijacked carriage with its rose coloured woods
Now I flee for my life - stealing to make good!
The moor looks bleak at each point of the star
Black wind and cold rain are always dragging me down
Now the horses need rest and I know I must give them that
The farm gate unlocked I dismantle the beasts from the cart
Into shelter I find for them a big old barn
I say thanks to the horses for running so hard
We share accommodation until this thunder stops
The dawn light breaks the night and on my own feet I try to get lost
Not stopping now until several hundred miles have passed
I get used to living outside in the fields of long grass
For I know that for a ship to carry me so, so far away
Work I must find so that I can secure the routes pay
For I've had it with this place and its people who want to treat me like a dog
I will start afresh in another country, leave this damned place and its smog
Copyright © A Yorkshire Poet | Year Posted 2017
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