Dead

• Evan Johnston , Grade 7
• Poetry
• 2019

Shadows creep closer with a loud rumble
My feet make small clouds of dust as I stride across the desert sand
I hide in the rubble of what was a home
I’m running from a man hunt
They’re after my blood
They won’t stop till we're all dead
I think they’re gone for now
I run to where my parents are
But what is this?
Their blood is staining the ground
Now I’m all alone in a cruel, dark world
As all freedom slips out of my fingertips
What is the point of fleeing anymore?
What is the strange light above me?
Who are those two people up there?... Mum, Dad?
Yes Son, it is us.