I stumble to the ground while fumbling for the keys.
My hands are shaking uncontrollably as I quickly hide in the trees.
I fear I am being chased by Death
As he yells for me with whiskey on his breath.
“Come out, come out and face me, my dear.”
I shiver and slump further down as he draws near.
A gun in his hand, this man knows no sin.
The only bullet, meant to do me in.
I ran through the woods as fast as I could
For he would surely kill me given the chance, I knew he would.
I found the car and off to the side I threw a rock.
He looked around and fell, due to shock.
I ran to my ride as he ran astray,
Then I hurried out of sight in my little getaway.