Race
Pants of effort from my lungs
Gasps of emotion from my heart
My sly fox eye gazes on my target
The will of survival consumes me
Every grunt and growl of the beast
To catch my prey
A foot race
I spotted you hiding in the pale savannah fields
The tiny gazelle, carefully treading the meadow.
My sly fox eye doesn't see a target
But a cause…
I am a predator
She is prey
That is the way of nature
If i catch you, do you think i would consume you
Walking over your carcass when i am done feasting?
Is that why this foot race never ends?
This poem is about:
Me