Runaway

If I write what I feel, will the heat of my anger

Flow through the pen and set fire to the page?

If I run, will I know when, or how, to stop running?

Or, if I'm fighting, when to disengage?

If I sing, will the pitch of my music keep climbing

'Til stained glass has shattered and eardrums have burst?

If I dance, will it be like an old-time death-frenzy?

As hard as I work, will my riches be cursed?

If I paint, how much chaos will clutter the canvas?

Can one scrub their way to the South China Sea?

If I let myself go, drop the reins a split second,

What trouble will follow the part that runs free?