I Will Run Poem by Jak Hard

The mountains are climbing toward the sky,
The clouds of trust and hope do die.
The glittering rivers dodge and turn and
The weak rotting banks crumble and churn.

The trees tower over the small, dead flowers,
Giving them no drops of the frequent, quenching showers.

Past the canopy and through to the forest’s floor,
The sun’s bright beams knock on the jungle’s door.

In this dying place
I will run this race,
No matter what it takes!
No matter what it takes!

The waves of the ocean lap over the shore,
Quickly tumbling in a deafening ROAR!
Carrying coral to its break,
Agitating sand with nothing at stake.

The birds are chorusing with the winds angelic song,
Pruning the moral of their sins and their wrongs.

Our slowly dying world is falling apart,
A puzzle with lost pieces, a line without a start.

Faith is what we need, it is our sixth sense,
It is our hands and feet and we lose it at our expense.
It is a mover of mountains, a strength, a gift,
A power, a muscle, and a force to be reckoned with..

As I soar into the cold, unwelcoming air, a tear rolls down my face,
My young, yearning face.
I am sick of the war the endless tiring race but
I will go on, I will reach home base.

My purpose in my mind is still unknown but
I will make sure that the earth’s light is shown.
May peace be to all who have given up their lives so
Children like us don’t have to fight.