Marathon Man Poem by David Wood
Marathon Man
Christmas is gone for another year
Now full of turkey, pud and beer.
Lets go for a run, lets be bold
But all I hear is: ‘your too old'.
I'm still young I shout and cry
Not old and tired, or ready to die.
When I was young and in my prime
I ran a marathon many a time.
Now I'm wrinkled old and grey
I only run them twice a day.
A fascinatingpoem with a nice rhyme and flow. Yes, our age sometimes limit our capacity to move.A well crafted and write.Very entertaining too.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Delivering Poems Around The World
Poems are the property of their respective owners. All information has been reproduced here for educational and informational purposes to benefit site visitors, and is provided at no charge...
5/5/2024 4:12:04 PM # 1.0.0.1119
They seem to be having great fun, though joggers never smile. I wonder why? Lots of planks to run on the ship, David, they all lead to the drink, of the rum and beer kind. Put away the sneakers and grab a keg.
The joggers I see never smile, they look like they're in agony. Yes, I enjoy a tot or two, navy rum or g&t.