Her feet pound the pavement
Beating the ground on this frozen night
An insignificant figure found
Passing beneath the glare of a street lamp
She knows not where she is going
The only thing she hears is the voice that
Speaks with every stride:
Onward, onward, onward
Keep moving and don't look back
The cold air stings like daggers
In the back of her throat but she dosn't mind
Her only objective is to keep running
For this is her solace, the place she belongs
And the rhythm of the run echoes in the empty streets
Author notes
This is what I do.
A contest entry
- want me to indulge you? okay, I will. by broken-colours.
1750 points, ended January 5, 144 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
-
very descriptive personal poem.
flows well, kind-of like a story.
vivid & clear in my mind.
thank you for sharing.
<3
-
wow
this is amazing. I know exactly how you feel. this is such a great write. Wow. I'm just so intrigued with this. It is just amazing. Keep up the great work.
<3

-
-
YES! Thank you so much for your wonderful comment! Hope you're doing well!
-


