Running Away

When I was a kid, I wanted to run away. As if running away, would be fun. Like running through clouds, And the clouds are happy. My mom scolded me, But it was all fun, and make believe. I just turned 17. I just got my license. And the car is glaring in the sun. Singing songs on that radio. That were sad. Driving slowly, So I can come home a little late. When I was 17, I wanted to run away. Like running through the clouds. As if the clouds would hide me. I never told them that. Or else they might take my car away. I never told them that. Or else they might pack my bag for me.