Finally Catching Up



I know it’s never been a race, 
but I only know what it’s not.
You’ve already passed me by twice;
don’t know how many more laps I’ve got.

I’ve given up trying to catch up
as we’ve always run round and round.
Our strides so evenly match up,
but yours are swift, while mine pound.

As along I plodded, I’ve pondered 
all the laps we could have shared,
if out of my lane I wandered,
if only I’d sped up and dared.

I’m nearing the end of my run,
and I just can’t catch up to you.
Since we don’t know when we’ll be done,
here is what I thought we could do.

I’ll never get back my old zest, 
catching up I won’t even try.
So I’ll wait here and rest
and jump back in as you go by.

And as I did, you turned and said,
“Thanks for waiting ‘til I caught you.”
Seems I was the one laps ahead,
now we'll finish as we ought to.

I think it’s seamlessly ironic, knowing how I get bogged down in my real life and the hundreds of lives banging around in my head, that I’m a day late in finishing this poem. The prompt was to write a “Catch up” poem. Indeed.

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