My life: it’s like one of those practices where you keep running suicides

The whistle blows, you start running

You don’t know when it’s going to stop; but what you do know is you have no other option but to give it your all

At first, it’s not that bad, it’s not too hard

You watch your foot hit the line, you reach down and tap the floor

You break a sweat, it gets harder to breathe, you’re getting tired, getting worn out

You’re foot stops short of the line, you don’t want to be last, you don’t want to be behind

Your muscles start to ache, the pain grows more intense

All you can think about is quitting; but you don’t

You want a break, you want it to be over, but you have to trust your coach wont push you too hard; but hard enough

The others seem fine, barely breaking a sweat, but they’re running the same race

The distance is the same each time, but the lines feel further and further apart

Stay tough, be strong, hang on just a little bit longer

My life is like one of those practices where you run non-stop suicides

Each step gets harder, but with each step, the desire to finish grows, too

Barely hanging on, you continue to fight

You barely have the motivation to keep going, but you don’t have the cowardly audacity to quit

You try your best to stay focused, you try your best to fight your own thoughts of stopping

But as you continue, you become so focused on not giving up that you don’t realize you aren’t precisely touching the line anymore

You stop bending down all the way,

You go through the motions, you try hard not to slow down

You keep that fight, though, that spirit

Nothing else matters but finishing before giving up

My life; it’s a practice where you keep running non-stop suicides

I may mess up, I do slow down

I feel tired and don’t want to go on

It feels like forever, but I won’t stop until I hear that final whistle blow

I will keep on fighting because too much is at stake.


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