White Lake

She was running fast,
as her feet pounded,
was she free at last,
From them who hounded.

She was picking up speed,
as she ran to the lake,
glass gashing her bare feet,
But the only route to take.

Her hair stuck to her face,
soggy with sweat,
running as fast as she could,
From her fate set.

The lakes edge coming in fast,
she jumps and shuts her eyes,
White, strong wings break free,
and she escapes to the skys.

White Lake

sillyblonde

Joined September 2007

  • Artist
    Notes

Artist's Description

This is another one from one of them moments when i wished i could just fly away, and one of the places i would walk to when i was stressed was a large lake about 4 miles away. It always looks white in summer because of the sun. Its not meant to be a poem about suicide but temporary escape. Whether the girl in the poem kills herself is up to how you interpretate it

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