like a flash of light
sprinting into the arms
of joy
in our highs
we run
like a swirl of tornado
scrapping away each trace
of pain
in our lows
we run
"just add extra rounds for me."
but my highschool teacher replied,
"rehearsing what one loves is no punishment."
a substitute punishment of running turned unseen
free! I ran
a finish line with or without
celebrated or ignored
we run
for one thing and only:
passion
while mama cared less about passion
to the park called Bunderan Blok M
papa cycled with me early morning
there I ran, and ran, round and round
thank you, papa
From K-Town, 2016-05-25
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