I run. 

I lace up my shoes, 

I think of all I done, 

I pray in hopes of an answer,

and I run.

I compose symphonies with my feet,

I think of toxic words,

I dream of Someday,

and I run.

I hurdle every mountain,

I wonder about far away,

I cry over heartbreak,

and I run.

I get torn down,

I stumble,

I celebrate victory.

I run.

Someday my knes will crunble,

but with pen and paper never ceasing,

I'll always run.