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Will Wilde Botta Apr 2013
Together we practice a vital give and take
A simple exchange, a necessary exchange
No gain in wealth, just life.
Breath deep.
A cold morning before the warmth of the sun graces us
Paintings are supplied that no artist could create
And in return a drop of sweat to heal the silent cracked lips of Earth
Take it in.
Deprivation only to bolster
Sharing an infinite might for an instant
Strength for admiration and respect.
Understand.
An endless beauty to act as our guide
Shaping our foot falls as we stride along the strip
Soft strides quiet the audience of the persistent symphony
Listen.
It does not matter where it is done
The repetition brings us together
Full of life. Full of beauty. Full of strength. Full of song.
Cherish it.
A runner would understand
Will Wilde Botta Oct 2011
I don’t know how to go on
After running those races as merely a pawn.
Because I let myself be used,
I was reminded of what it is to lose.

But so what?

I know how to trip and fall,
Even if I have given it my all.
What hurts is to watch from the ground,
And watch as my work scatters all around.

The dagger slashing through my body is one
That makes me feel as if I should be done.
The blade is crafted from seeing miles and miles,
Simply crumble and crack like worn kitchen tiles.

— The End —