A Runaway Train

My memory stops to fail me, As I remember, how I ‘looked’, My captors said, they fell in love, With a walking hurricane, Fleeting letters and storms of words.

How beautifully, often graceless, Putting a face, to heartache, a name, Cooing war inside her brain, Never they thought they’d love her the same.

For her fractured pieces, Could still make, born art, Like polished sheets and fine creases, A muse, to her, was all their part.

Walking, not her forte, never the case, Running away a daily chore, Many places to stray, no permanent base, Ambush, alone didn’t bore.

But what could cure this mistake? A choker chain, Made of self-restraint, Were worn by this ‘Runaway Train’, She is a runaway train…