I could run
I danced
I skipped and spun on my heels.
I ate what I liked
And I liked the "good" stuff -
There was cheese
and potatoes
spaghetti
and peas.
Yes, I liked peas
and ice cream
and my grandmas' baked delights.
The world was mine to explore
taste and savor.
Always stomping out
an old 'ho-hum'
that hung on too long.
On ever changing trails,
I would live to one hundred -
my limitations were few
by my reckoning
and then....
faltering
stumbling
I hurt.
Letting them all escape,
The horses were gone.
My bad timing to close the barn door.
I ate a little better.
Smoking finally ceased.
Exercise staged,
hurting more.
Trembling, afraid and broken
lack of patience
had become
being a patient.
Yet I drilled on
Hanging with ghosts
Pressing closer
Tightened between
'I want to LIVE' !!
And 'it might not be so bad
to be gone - away from this'.
Always my story
is to run away uphill
so no one can follow.
No one can hurt me.
Did I do it all wrong?
Was this meant to be?
Time drills holes in my soul
as I hobble and trip.
Now catch me if you can.
If you dare
Come to the place
where the only
certainty is pain.
The friend is
there beyond where I
can hurt myself no more.
