Marathon of a Struggling life

A pinch in the rib to breath some air
while running this path led by fear
of losing the pace to reach an end
That hides behind the turns and bends.

Every beat of heart throbes the chest
expecting that goal, that point of rest
and ease, that comfort, that ease of pain
to feet thats dying to walk again.

At times I meet the passing birds
chirping the same old ugly words.
But run I must, ignoring the fumes
blown by such cheers of unworthy tunes,

“Never give up, chirp! keep up the run!”
Well you’ve got wings buddy, I’ve got none!

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