I wrote something new. It's been a while since I've written anything. I'm not sure if I like this poem, but here it is.
We’re always racing through life.
And, for what reason?
What do we find at the finish line?
Exhaustion and helplessness.
Looking back, what do we see?
In the lives of many,
A blur of colors, faces, and distant screaming,
Speeding up more,
As the end draws near.
The longer we carry on,
The more tiresome we become.
Our course becomes monotonous.
Even with all the climbs and falls,
We wish to escape from it all.
Pacing is key to survival.
Our feet can only carry us so fast,
Yet we continue to push past their limit.
Those who pay it no attention,
Pull ahead, then burn out prematurely.
We, the runners of this race,
Are given a set of boundaries.
And, though we all know it is wrong,
Some will leave the safety of the course,
Only to find danger and disqualification.
It is not until we finish,
That we realize how fast the race truly was.
All the while, we thought it would never end.
But looking back on everything, we almost wish
It could have lasted longer.