the runaway

Don't slow down or you'll get scared.

That woman who told us to keep running
now collapses against her husband's smile.
The word "iniquity" comes to mind, but really,
we've done nothing wrong.

Dust roads that should be dirt,
streams that should be rivers,
books that should be thicker,
and adults who should be able to take care of us;

they said, "poor children, so sad, so sick."
I would say to them: "I'm desperate.
I've been running toward you for six long years,
So why do you keep walking away?"

They smiled, they said: "You're wrong, poor child;
Maybe you can't see from your four foot seven eyes
but you're just so slow on your little legs;
I've been right here all this time."

Is that true?
I don't know, myself;
I've always had a hand in mine
to whom I could ask the question.