This week I ran, <br />I ran from home. <br />My father was cruel, <br />He treated me like, <br />A simple slave child. <br /> <br />I ran to a friends, <br />Trying to leave town. <br />We almost escaped, <br />Then he saw us, <br />He took me straight home. <br /> <br />Once we arrived, <br />I packed all my things. <br />As he begged me to stay, <br />He said something was wrong, <br />He wasn't sure what. <br /> <br />He went to the phone, <br />I ran out the back. <br />To my friends once more, <br />The cops have soon come, <br />They said, 'we can do not'. <br /> <br />So know here I am, <br />A run away girl. <br />No more treated as if, <br />I am Cinderella, <br />Without a kind prince. <br /> <br />But a prince I need not, <br />For I have many friends. <br />With many a true, <br />I hold them all close, <br />For I am Cinderella. <br />And one day I'll have my Prince.<br /><br />Brianna Wilshusen<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/cinderella-20/
