A Runaway


may not belong to a family now, 
still got a life, 
have my own back, 
yet not a normal childhood.

It doesn't matter if I don't, 
I don't have to be like everybody else, 
If I got my own back, 
Then how I end up in this place, 
yet so hospitalized and so clean.

Smelling like the doctor's office, 
full of the familiar clean air, 
That i breathed once before, 
When I entered the world, 
with the person; who gave me life.

I feel so hurt, 
not even the bandages, 
that cover these wounds, 
crying in pain, 
can free me from it.

It's something I can't describe, 
I have never felt this before, 
I can't remember what caused this, 
I thought I'll always be okay, 
but I'm not anymore.

I have learned my lesson, 
that's so unforgettable, 
no eraser so tough, 
can erase this, 
yeah, my stupid and wrong decision.

Like leaving was my best plan, 
I know I wasn't the brightest, 
to choose to live a wretched, gang-like life, 
that brought me here, 
and leave the ones I loved the most.

My life is not flawless, 
nobody's perfect, 
the kind of life I live now, 
is not better than the lifestyle I had before, 
aka the original.

My current lifestyle is only a fake, 
trying to form something it is not, 
a screw up and a mistake, 
but the original. 

Guide that inspired this poem: 


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