Running Poem by Micheal Olaniyi

Truly, I carry the bag of my sagging shoulders
With a bewildered heart,
Like an heir trapped in a den,
Solemnly waiting for its death,
And my thought soar high
To the peak of my poor mind
In aim to alley my fears
But it deepens its depth.
Truly I decline my daily meal
And as a result, I'm lean.
Scan my skin and look at me,
I'm on a high hill,
Any wrong step taken
Might land me in a sea.
Vicky told me to run away,
Sincerely I did for days,
Julius told me to dodge,
But I can't for the rest of my life
So I stopped on the way,
Slow things to a walk
And get a stroll back home,
As that may take me astray,
Yet may not pave a way,
Than bravely tackling my doom
Because I have once learn that
'Running ain't freedom.