bicycleofthoughts

Flat green plains, no hills to die on
No one to argue, no shoulder to cry on
A fresh breath of air can’t clean my lung
Weak hands, weak knees, weak mind have my heart strung
I run till my sweat overruns my tears
My exhausted fall causes no alarms and no cheers
Eyes close as my face hits the ground
Thump thump thump from my heart is the only sound
I lie there, contemplating
Hopes and fears, inflating, deflating
I clinch my fists, grabbing dirt and clay
I stack them up, day by day
Give it a name, call it a friend
I will fool myself, until the end