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Dancing like angels in innocent snow
Blackened trees lay in watching
children run from impending knowing
They run to red berries of willing blindness

These children are free
I wish me to be like these
Yet I watch, for my legs are broken
Broken from falling from grace

I sit in a chair of wheels
Watching the urgent race
they run far to the red berry moon
They run to where civilization ends
To where influence is none

And so the broken sit
upon wheels and mangled sticks
Cheering for the innocence
Running to redemption
Praying that they remember to come back for us

Faceless surgeons armed with razors
cut out our imaginations.


The following comments are for "Run, Run, Innocence"
by CinderellaUndercover

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