The Rat Race (Food For Thought) Poem by Raphael Sackey

Help me out dear friends;
what should I do…?
What would you do,
if you ever woke up in such a world as I have?

I know I was asleep, unconscious, dead or at least unaware.
But when I finally woke,
I saw myself in a world where all the people
were running in one direction, nonstop, like a mighty avalanche of men.

Like all who arrived or are born here, I was curious.
Amidst the speeding crowd, I was forced to move with the flow.
And before I knew it, I was running as well.
Like a clueless little child.

From what were we running?
To where? I did not know.
When will it end? Must I run along?
There wasn't time to think.

All those to whom I asked these questions,
were either too busy running to mind me,
or simply gave me an inadequate:
'all I know is, when I arrived here, they were all running…'

What would you do, when after hours of running,
your legs begin to hurt and your heart can no longer take it?
Those that stopped or tripped, were trodden on under the great stampede.
Why all this pain and trouble?

There were those that were preaching words of encouragement along the way.
But no amount of words could shake the feeling that I was probably running for nothing.
For no one had been to the end. The marathon went on forever.
And people got old and died in the race.

Who at all, started all this running and why?
They were probably dead; but I guess they wouldn't waste all this energy,
if there was nothing to achieve.
And so I continued to endure

And as I run I came across men with interesting minds.
Some were friends, some were foes and some were philosophers with agendas.
Agendas different from the crowd. But none knew if they were right.
And I shall tell about them all.

Then I thought to myself.
This world was not much different from the last one I was in; I think they called it earth.
There also, men were always busy doing one thing or another.
But all died without finding why.