Running Forever Poem by Eillio Imbasciati

Who really runs the country?
Joggers, they run the chase when not embroiled in the rat race
Make the grade, scale the miles,
Personal upkeep never in question
Strange is the range, all the way and back
Sights to see, using your eyes in concert with your mind
Runner's high,
Gaining ground, making tracks, writing our names in the margins of the sidewalk
Relief, clarity, a jubilant soothing,
A clearance to clean the system and start fresh
No hot air, the wind on our side,
Running forever, never to sprint away, bold strides,
Racing throughout the homeland, not concerned about being behind anything that surged past
Happy trails, for all