October 9, 2008
By Yael Bame, Hampstead, MD

Close you eyes
shut your mouth
turn your head
let it all out

Sleep in late
go to bed early
can't get away
from any of this

Television screens
broadcasting the news
like its the biggest thing
since sliced bread

No matter where you turn
theirs my face
plastered on the side
of a telephone pole

Don't they understand
I maybe wasn't kidnapped
maybe I just don't
want to go back

So instead I drown myself
in sleep
on park benches
and under willow trees

I need to escape
but no matter where I hide
no matter how far I run
theirs always part of me left behind

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