Magazine, website & books written by teens since 1989

Song of the Lost

Incognito, in disguise, on the run, our demise,
Never home and never late,
We wander everywhere and choose to stay,
On sanctuary’s wing.

A thousand times we suffocate,
Every day we watch our backs,
In fear of running into the State,
Into the tumbling marauder’s tracks.
(though little to say),
But there is comfort,

In the wandering and
Running, running away.

For we believe we’re free of sorrows,
That we’ve captured a future filled with no tomorrows.

Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

Site Feedback