i've always wanted to be something i'm not
to be stronger, smarter, and better.
long legs say i should be a runner:
my legs are a high-speed flying machine to take me away to where people look like ants, and i feel clouds through my fingers.
but like most, i've let fear control me.
"i don't run."
it controls the way i think, the way i act, and the way i see.
staying inside my box was like sleeping until noon...
it was easy.
and then Kenneth died.
how awful it is that we need reminders about how short life is.
"there is reason in this" they said to me.
a reason for freak accidents and tear stained pages.
it was not an accident. it was a reminder.
I think i'll go running....
Author notes
kenneth died when he was 18. It's just our reminder to treat every day as our last.
Written July 30th, 2006
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Abbie - I'm SOOO glad that you finally wrote something new, however, I'm not glad that it had to come from something so tragic, but this is a fantastic poem, and you did a very nice job of getting your point across... nice work hun - I love you!
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I have a feeling that this is not about running. And truthfully, I'm not quite sure what it is about. And yes, accidents, I believe sometimes, don't happen-they are often reminders. I liked that line. Also, you are right. I truly believe that running has a freeing feeling to it-sometimes like flying. Good write, my friend!
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