Escape
If I could run so far away and hide
my face of shame from this disgrace of mine,
I'd drag my feet from here to Paris, France
and let my cares and worries out in dance.
The cobbled streets would never be the same.
The Francophones would never know my name.
A beauty, black, but pure as Noah's dove.
My movements signify His grace and love.
I'd cross the strait into the land of sand
and drown the noise with drummings of my hands
to beat the aching from my head and heart.
A problem I don't want to be a part.
Escape from you and this is what I want.
I'd rather run from you than to confront.
~cdw
12.2009
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