Same Problems

Days run up on one another

Racing to a finish line that forever keeps moving

No chance of ever finishing

But what’s left

What are my options

To stop and join the crowds

I can’t stand people

Unlike zombies, they’re worse

Sucking up all the air that is meant for precious life

The life of the squandered

I’d rather not join them

So I keep running

Hoping that one day

That day when the finish line stops moving

I will cross that line

Might even finish this rat race

But then what’s next

What’s left to chase?

Segundo Juan Devora