It is a cliche But nonetheless a truth That I like Long walks on the beach. Walking is heaven but running is hell
On a beach Feet slipping on soft sands once so soothing Dragging back the more I push on Forward, forward Without a definite end. I’ll still get to where I’m going But for time I trade beauty And for time I trade peace, running.
I wrote this in a cafe in Paris so that's kind of fun, felt very artsy