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The Run
My feet take the shock,
my hands afford my grip.
My thighs sore from running,
and my lungs are burning,
each breath a ragged gasp.
My injured ankle slowly getting worse,
while my scrapes bleed profusely.
My hands are aching more now.
I could let the adrenaline fade,
but the flow, the jumps, the impacts,
I love them all.
The pain leaves but the skill doesn't.
After today I am stronger,
my parkour skills increase,
and lets me go on longer.
Take the runs harder,
and do what I love.
Parkour has made life better,
and saved me once or twice.
I do it when I want,
and always accept the pain.
Wall runs, vaults, and move galore,
keep me moving to this day.
My feet hit,
my hands grab,
my lungs burn.
But I will never,
ever,
stop running.
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This poem was inspired by my love of parkour, a hobby that involves the overcoming of obsticles on a path from point A to point B. It is all about how well you can connect your motions, strength, and fearlessness going over obstacles, jumping intense distances, and putting your wellbeing on the line. I hope that when you read this you can get the start of the feeling of what this is about, and it motivates you to push on doing what you love, because sometimes it is doing what you love that saves you from the worst of times.