Grandpa
I look up
sweat dripping
down my face
like droplets of water
dripping down
a clear window pane
Your running beside me
treading along
like a speedy racehorse
trained to endure
a thousand mile race
You smile at me
cheerful
as always
like a young child
on Christmas morning
fooling every passerby
more than once
I’ve been asked if
your middle aged
you’ve shown me many things
and pushed me to my limits
always telling me to do my best
eight miles now
and I feel weary
but you
you seem as if you
haven’t even broken a sweat
Good metaphor at the beginning, good poem :)
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