The Runaway

Call me the runaway,
You are right.

From home, I ran away
To fight for my life.

It is my right
To have good things of life.

But I'll have to work for it,
I'll have to fight for it,
I'll have to struggle for it.

For I was a heir to nothing.
I had no property to inherit.

poem by Efe Benjamin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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