Poetry ~ "The Prodigal Son" ~ AF ~ 2

"The Prodigal Son"

By: Acacia Faye

You hate yourself,
a wayward child running away.
You're done rebelling,
but you're still running. 
Running through the trees,
still far away from me.
Running on the street,
like that's what you deserve to be. 

Just a street,
Under my feet,
To be stomped,
spit on,
and walked all over.

Like a wayward child you run,
But I forgive you my prodigal son.
You run away,
But I pray you come home.
I was angry,
But now I'm busy painting.
Painting this street gold,
So that you may know.

If you're the street,
It's precious to me,
To be loved,
Hugged,
And kissed all over.

Like a wayward child you run,
But I forgive you my prodigal son.