Get Your Premium Membership

The Runaway

Oh, lord what’s the use in tryin’? Nothin’s turned out the way I planned. I got the whole world tellin’ me I’m dyin’. Think I’ll just lie here with the Good Book in my hands. I’m on board and bound for leavin’. No farewells from family or friends. Guess in the long run I just broke even while I lie here with the Good Book in my hands. I won’t bother tryin’ to sell my soul before I rest in peace. I never found an ounce of gold in anything I claim to believe. Reminded of my sins when I feel that linen soft against my skin. Oh, lord too late for cryin’. Ran out of reasons to save this man. I see four walls closin’ in around me as I lie here with the Good Book in my hands. I won’t bother tryin’ to sell my soul before I rest in peace. I never found an ounce of gold in anything I claim to believe. Reminded of my sins when I feel that linen soft against my skin. I got the whole world tellin’ me I’m dyin’. Think I’ll just lie here with the Good Book, die here with the Good Book, in my hands.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2019




Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.

Please Login to post a comment

A comment has not been posted for this poem. Encourage a poet by being the first to comment.


Book: Shattered Sighs