The Addictive One Poem by Francis Duggan

Tall and slim and well into her fifties with blond dye she covers her gray
And though she does not seem to need to lose weight she jogs in the park every day
Perhaps with her it is an addiction and our addictions rule us as some think and say
And she is not any different to others we are all addictive in some way.

To jog to her seems a big effort she pants as she goes jogging by
She pushes herself to the pain barrier for what reason do not ask me why
At her wrist watch she is often glancing she must be training for a race
Her lap times to her seem important in spurts she does pile on the pace.

For one who is ageing she looks fit she has the stride of an athlete
With her i could not hope to keep up with she would run one like me off my feet
But then i never was much of a runner and in every race i did compete
I finished far back from the winner and my lot was always defeat.

An ageing woman in her fifties dyed blond hair she is tall and slim
But does she need such strenuous exercise when she is so fit looking and trim
It must be for a race she is training a dream to follow we all need
And only those who try the hardest are those who can hope to succeed.

She jogs in the park in the sunshine with the look of strain showing on her face
And she glances at her wrist watch as she is running and at times she piles on the pace
'Twould seem running is her addiction we are all addictive in some way
And her addiction is to run hard and train in the park every day.