Running

Running – running down the black-top –

Barefoot – wearing a milk-white dress;

Hair – blonde – streaming behind – can't stop –

The sun beating down – her witness;

Tears stream from wide, staring blue eyes –

Her face is a mass of hurt – pain;

She has had enough of the lies –

Nothing had been real – all a strain;

Her arms pump – down the road she flies –

The tarmac hot and sticky burns;

Cacti line the way – verdant spies –

Will she find the peace that she yearns?

At last – exhausted – she slumps down –

Her tears staining her bridal gown.