Food

I decided one time
not long ago
that I’ll keep running
no matter who comes and go
but few miles in
and I found myself
running out of water,
food and breath.

shit.

I supported my arms on
my shaking legs and
looked down at my worn-out
shoes. they were
barely breathing, like
unconscious soldiers on
a battlefield.
how great it was to see them
being one with
my breath.

what a love story. what a tragic death.

so I stopped, and
looked around and
asked myself,
what do you do when you’re
hungry, and you can’t find
a restaurant?

you make your own damn food.

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6 thoughts on “Food

  1. Great poetry!!
    Good to stop for catching a breath rather than collapsing much before the finish line.
    And if you can make your own food, why wait for someone or someplace else to feed you.

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