Running, his feet pound against the pavement
The sound of his sneaker soles slamming hard
Ground echos off the walls of this cement
Canyon, audible fear filling the yard
Predator instincts find them following
Drawing blades like claws, tasting the pursuit
Like the bile that his throat is swallowing.
They draw close, he tries to find a new route
But all that surrounds him now are the teeth
The blades, the clubs, the dark sound of laughter.
His eyes are drawn to the ground underneath
His feet. His thoughts are on the hereafter.
He chose this, to be attacked and beaten.
He became prey so he would be eaten.