I look back on the past forty-eight years
Never quite sure when was my prime but now
That I run and train for the marathon
How my focus has buried any tears
Eons ago I set small goals to earn
Passage as a fare to lead not follow
Really how this happened my worries gone
I trust in the present to guide each day
Marathon training is an art I learn
Each time I put on my shoes to go run
Obsessive my need to win to finish
First a pipedream like in high school the fun
My cross-country team had those days I wish
Yet know better than to wish or to say
Light-heartedly I could return back home
In truth that place those times simply a scream
Fiction to conjure up delightful dream
Endless summers on the beach with seafoam
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