the impossible race.

there appears to be no finish line.

certainly not in sight, anyway.
everyday, i tie on my shoes and step out the door,
only to wander aimlessly through the morning mist.
only to trip, stumble and fall over every obstacle.

the winning prize is never guaranteed to anyone.
how is it that i feel entitled to it?

even now.
shouldn't the fog clear at some point?
shouldn't the fans be making their way to the sidelines?
shouldn't the ribbon be clearly visible to me now,
stretched across the track for me to strive for?
one last adrenaline rush to push me into the winner's circle?

Break through.
Breakdown.