%- ) (:-)

Alas alack and near and far
i run and trip— the ground is hard
my feet are sore my hands are scraped
my knees are weary
i sorely ache
what good is this, i cannot say
to exercise is such a chore
like scrubbing floors
and kitchen sinks
and even places that sometimes stink.
oh woe and wishful thinking all
a cup of coffee i do recall
is what would please my very soul
instead of feeling oh so small
while mother cleans my cuts and scrapes
you’d think ’twas seven, not 48
or nine or ten, or 52
it doesn’t matter, i feel like two.
so come tomorrow, i’ll try again
to run with grace and ease— count 10!