Run for Your Life
A poem about existence

It’s maddening, isn’t it? Being alive? No manual, no guidance, no shortcuts to thrive? Alone at the start line, no clue how to run. Yet we’re thrust into motion with the bang of a gun.
So we move our legs faster. We try to keep going. Striding through darkness without really knowing. This midnight marathon, no snacks, no drink. Just us and our heartbeats. Left only to think.
We’re barefoot here too. Soft feet, tough ground. There’s a meaning to this? One we haven’t yet found. It feels like we’re looping, right back where we stood. Passersby much fast — man, we’re no good.
And then comes the sunrise, the horizon aglow, This little burst of light and we see where to go. A finish line, a final, set close around the bend. So we slow, somehow. We don’t want it to end.






