I am running,
Past children begging under the bridge.
One-legged boys, girls with eyes lined black with kohl.
They hold bowls with eyes of hope,
And their mothers sit with their legs stretched out counting bills.
I invite them to run with me.
We are running,
Until we get to the arena.
Where bombs and babies make terrifying sounds
Mothers protect and fathers are slaughtered.
The dangers and dangerous stop when they see us.
They ask, where to? I shout, just follow.
You are running,
With arms stretched out.
Days, months, and years pass, still you know they will be back.
For even the grave will get too full of the dead and vomit,
Happy people, grateful once more to pick up running,
In this race that we are all determined to win.
I pause to catch my breath.
The finishing line is close, so I turn around.
Behind, I see billions of people from different races, culture, and ages.
Their smiles are wider, and their strides more elongated. So, I continue.
Peace, happiness and security welcome us as we make it over the line.
I stop running.