Jacqui Richards’s Weblog

March 26, 2008


Filed under: F — jacquirichards @ 10:47 pm



Babe, I feel like a fugitive,

Hidin’ away in your bed,

Taking everything that you’ve got to give,

It’s like I’ve never been fed.


I’m on the run,

Left work early,

Before the boss could see I was gone.

Pretended to have a cold,

But disappeared before I as told,


When he looked,

I wasn’t there,

Still some paperwork to do,

But I came here.



I really do hope that I don’t get caught,

I hope that no – one sees me,

Whenever I am sought.

I could have hidden in the attic,



Or behind the wardrobe, instead,

But the best place to seek refuge, I find,

Is in your arms, in your bed.



© Jacqueline Richards 2008


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