Poetry

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Running, running lost and alone
A girl is running from her everyday home.
Shes been beat to a pulp
As if theres nothing in her
As if shes not alive
Like a battered rose she runs through the street
She's crying, she's weeping
She trips on the ground
She remembers her father and his angry old frown
He picked up a stick and beat her
Till she was almost dead
Now she was running and running
Away from this man
Away from the home shes known all her life
Away from the mother who had held her so tight
she runs and runs through the dirty dark streets
She runs and runs until she cant run anymore
She crumbles to the ground
Hurting and bleeding
She cant stand it.
The pain, the abandonment
then she remembers her God
Who had saved her life
Who knew that she would have this coming strife
Now she knew what her life was meant for
To run for Jesus, to run to His door.
She remembers the stripes he took
That day upon his back
And the rusty nails that went through his hands
The pain in His eyes
And He did it all for her
Just so that she would live.
She remembers the blood he shed
Flowing in streams away from the cross
Just as she was shedding blood now
There was no reason to worry
For He had her
He was drawing her close
She looked up and saw a light
A warm sensation filled her broken bones
Lord bring me to you! She cried.
She was gone.
Lying on the street
Her eyes were pointed towards heaven
And there was a smile on her face.

As that girl ran for her life
So should we
Running and running
To a man called He.

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