Like the Wind

"Hey, Thanks."
They say
While they run off
Like a pack of ravenous dogs
Tearing apart their self respect
Tearing apart their disguises
The wool flies
And free from their fleece prison
They run like the wind
Trailing, tracking,
Not caring, not questioning
"Not here, not now."
They think
While they play
Like a fervent pianist
Creating something greater
Killing the beauty
For the importance
And now,
There is no answer
They fly away
Like the wind