TWS #30 — Stolen Run



for those who lost their lives in the Boston Marathon bombing

Like a pinprick, they took our reward.
Every breath held by a thousand steppers,
Exploded in violence
Instead of the exhalation of pain & triumph
They earned with every step and drop of sweat.
They took a thing -
The breath we all take before the starter's gun
In the moment when even the heart slows,
When we hold deep one last breath
That'll endure until we pass the final line.
A sweet beat of time that unites us all:
The speeders pacing for a record known to only them
The plodders glorying in each finish time no matter how grim,
The novices who've no idea where the wall will find them
And the rest falling somewhere in between.
In that moment there's no difference in our family.
We are together a tribe — you and me,
Brothers and sisters communing in sweat and blood,
Until the clap of the gun breaks the reverie
And every difference mounts with seconds minutes hours
That pass us by as we pass those who cheer
For Our resiliency Our courage Our idiocy.
The cheers give us hope and smiles
That 26 will soon empty.
But hope will only last five past twenty;
Where our hearts become a sieve,
Our minds a vacuum,
Our vision a tunnel with one horizon.
Only the grind drives us through the burden,
Powered by that last breath, we drank in.
The breath they stole away -
Stolen until we breathe in again;
Together to prepare for every day,
A race run in memory and vengeance.
We'll sing with percussion
As we find again and finish that sweet mile -
Hard and True


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