The man ran quickly. He was fleeing from the town. A brick in his hand.
Only thing he found. It was for his protection. A lousy weapon.
He couldn’t take it. The things they had made him do. And so he had fled.
His family dead. They left him without a hope, and so he left them.
Expected to kill. Over minor offenses. Like sharing a blood.
Were they still alive, his family would be next, for his defection.
No reason to stay. He had abandoned his post. Went for the border.
He’s nearing it now. And steps over the threshold. Into his freedom.
His weak hands release. And the brick falls to the ground. He didn’t need it.
In to a new land, he is welcomed by strangers, who know why he fled.
They get him well fed. And they give him some clean clothes. His new life begins.