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--RosieOnTheRun (from reality)--

United Kingdom

What am I meant to say here? That I'm an inspirational young writer wanting to share her talent with the world? Coz no. That's not me. I'm just a insignificant, invisible, voice. Trying to write in a pool of fears, and hoping the ink won't smudge.


February 16, 2017


London City
Planet earth

First impressions

The people here live like animals. 
In square boxes, blocking out the sun.
They travel around in tin cans, 
And steel serpents that belch smoke,
The sky is littered with metal dragons, 
And stars are almost non-existent.
At night the dark is banished by neon lights.
And the stars seem fainter, muted. 
The moon sombre, smaller somehow than at home.
I miss the moon.
It was my friend.

Voices, footsteps coming closer, I slink into the shadows, melting into the dark, sudden fear pumping through my veins, but no, they're never find me here.

They have this thing, here in the UK.
They call it democracy,
Choice of The people,
But it doesn't seem like that, 
It's the important people who seem to make the decisions,
Not The people.

They're always arguing, people, if they really had a choice there wouldn't be any arguing, would there?

Everyone talks about freedom,
They live in a Free country,
They have Free Will
They are as free as a bird.
But there's so many rules here,
Rules and regulations,
How is that Freedom?
Where I come from freedom means doing what you want,
living life with no rules,
no boundaries.
Freedom here seems to come at a price.

There's the voices again. Closer. I can hear them. Scared, apprehensive. My fear melts away replaced by curiosity, but I can't show myself. I mustn't.
"We're not meant to be here!"
"Look, shut up will you! We've come this far!"
"Its against the law!"
"Shut up! listen, can you hear that...?"

I try to become one with the wall. But no, they're never find me here.
I used to have a home,
Have friends,
I conversed with the stars and moons
Now I know no one
I am not living
Simply being
I miss my life
The life I used to have
Now I live as a shadow, dwelling in darkness
And the men who see me flinch.

"What's that?"
"I'm getting out of here!"
"I'm sure I heard something..."
One of them has run off, haunted by all too vivid images of axe-men and ghosts that seem to stalk people's minds.
The other will follow soon, I hope.
But I can feel its curiosity burning. It's coming, looking for me. 
It's seen me.
No one ever sees me.
I stare at It.
This child.
This infant of humanity.
And it stares back at me.
Gold flecked eyes full of wonder.
I've seen this before, any moment now It will start to scream.
I wait for the shouts of 
But they don't come.
Instead the Child smiles, holds out It's hand and says-
"Let's be friends"

Now I belong.
I have a friend.


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  • February 16, 2017 - 12:21pm (Now Viewing)

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