Creeping Up

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I'm creeping up from behind.
I'm closing in on mine.
I'm holding out for my first.
I'm living up to my word.
I'm staring down at the pride.
I never could seem to find.
No matter how long it takes.
I swear I won't go away.
I say that because
I don't want to sit back
and leave the day to rot.
Leave the days to fester.
I need to keep up the pace.
No matter how slow.
No matter what's at stake.

There's no reason
I can live with
to stop progression
and end my illness.
I am sick inside
at least I admit this.
A race continues
and I can't ignore it.
I hear the sound of
each and every step,
breath, tick, and rest.
Another hash mark
on a shrinking timeline.
The computations
spit surrender.

Put one foot in front of the other...

The fading sidelines.
I'm crawling straight ahead.
Beyond the standstill.
I know I can't compare.
But if the scale is sliding
then the smallest grade could count
and the long shot we embrace
just might be carried out.
So I won't stop.
I'm creeping up on my time.

Autor(es): Babyland