Runaway

Out in the world young and
defenseless,
not knowing what will happen
or who is near.

The feeling of someone whatching
me crept over my shoulders,
it made the hairs stand up on my
arms.

The sound of the trees crackling
the sounds of the leaves blowing
made me quiver,
but the fear was what held on.

Sitting on my own on wet soggy leaves
the tears running down my face,
and no one to hear me cry.