I escape towards the streets
The cold, crisp air suffocating my every breath
I hear the sound of the shuttering souls
The sight of red street lights flutter along
With no real meaning in the undertones
Sounds of a camera’s film charging through me
I’ve been spotted
I’ve been captured
There is proof of my being
There is no where to go
The wind surges on my body
A photograph launched at me
My reluctant hands hold out for it
Overcoming fear
The photo is frail
the child is scared
My delicate fingers trace her outline
she vanishes
With her goes the freedom to roam.