Chaotic Rhythms

I was rushed out of our home by the rough hand of my concerned father.
When I saw that he already packed our suitcases, I was already homesick.
I could barely keep up with him, as he practically dragged me through the crowd in the foggy weather.
I didn’t understand what was happening around my face, but everyone around me was in a panic.

My father rushed along with the crowd, sighing, as the street alarms were blaring loud,
Which only added to the tension of everything else going on around me.
People were screaming, crying, and running along with the rest of the crowd.
I wanted to ask what was our destination, but I was too nervous to speak, for it might make my father angry.

All the running we were doing left me feeling tired and exhausted.
I couldn’t keep up with my father anymore, for I was growing drowsy, even though I tried.
I began to feel his hand slowly falling out of mine, as he ran faster, obviously conflicted.
The strength of the crowd overpowered me, and just like that he was no longer by my side.

I anxiously scanned the crowds for my father’s particular hat, as I was enraged with anger.
But there was no sign of him, but his extremely faint voice shouting my name.
I couldn’t do anything but stand there and listen to how loud the alarms blaring and people screaming were.
I watched all the chaos and all I could think about was how I lost my father, and I was filled with shame.

I managed to squeeze out of the crowded streets and onto the curb, for I was left with little dignity.
I sat on the edge of the road with ease and burst out into painful grieving tears,
But I drew no attention to my defeat for the sounds of my sobbing got lost in all the intensity.
I just sat there and cried into my knees knowing I was going to be alone for the rest of my years.