The Plan

January 17, 2012
By Mike Arner BRONZE, Clarkston, Michigan
Mike Arner BRONZE, Clarkston, Michigan
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

The tile of the open field
Means death
But the food
Even the miniscule amount
Means life, and survival.
Quickly I must think
Where to go and what to do
Anything is danger to me
The trap you’ve set
The steal shoe you bought
And to top that the stray and mangy cat
You know the one
The one that’s “cute”
I’m only a mouse
Yet you constantly turn the fiend on me.
All these years as my family has fought to live
You feed it,
Why not me?
I eat less than that monster
And my family,

Why they’re all dead
A snack to the beast
And I will run the same route
Hoping that I won’t be seen or caught
I must think faster than....
No time left
My hunger strikes harder and louder than either
The SNAP! of the trap
The CRUSH! of the shoe
OR the ROAR! of the beast.
Now is my run.
Here I go,
Here I run,
No matter what happens
No matter my fate,
I hope you’re happy.

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