Y’all Can’t Catch Me

Adam Fletcher at age 6

Adam’s Note: This is a poem I wrote in 1997. It reflects on experiences I had as a youth and the realities some young people face today.

Y’all Can’t Catch Me

Pushed pavement, feet swelling, sweat drips and brings
Cicada calls, night heat and too low cars scraping on shitty streets

bass, bass, bass, 3am wake up call was windows rattling
Scary shit: house robberies and running home from gun shots

Blood dripping, bruised eyes and a cut near my gut
“Did you get jumped again?!”

I didn’t
but somehow the ghosts still came flooding in

Adrenaline mixes the bad taste in my mouth everyone was just trying to make it
Except the cops, chasing us after rocks hailed onto the interstate

Except Rob ‘n them; couldn’t catch me. A whole summer spent running
Pedaling fast, I got away a few dozens times

When I couldn’t, I got got and it hurt
Now, these nights when I get away I go home

Wipe the sweat from my brow and smell my flower garden
Calming, I rest on my chair, sip tea, and write poetry

Its all different now no matter what those ghosts say
Y’all can’t catch me

You Might Like…

Suffering Love Laughing At Myself is the first poetry book of Adam Fletcher Sasse and is available at https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1492244651/ref=as_li_qf_sp_asin_il_tl?ie=UTF8&tag=thefreechildp-20&camp=1789&creative=9325&linkCode=as2&creativeASIN=1492244651&linkId=f44cc486f1762084454de9227854ae90

Published by Adam F.C. Fletcher

I'm a speaker and writer who researches, writes and shares about youth, education, and history. Learn more about me at https://adamfletcher.net

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