Robert Sheridan

Running - Poem by Robert Sheridan

Life’s condition
113th running
Gait opening
Forced out
Prevalent state
Extended continuously.

Can’t oppose
Running sore
Society’s competitor
Finish out
Keep running
Turned 98.

One foot
in the
grave – legs
no longer
moving – can’t
take flight.

Soon will
be taking
a shortcut –
first the
morgue – next
the grave.


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Poem Submitted: Friday, June 13, 2008

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