As I travel a dark road, I stop for a sec to look upwards and reflect thoughts, as the journey continues.
No, not rehabilitation as in I'm in a mental asylum. As the chances to compete are looking slim, I notice the sailing trip for the boat of progress is put on hold. With a massive internal wound plaguing the movement of my hamstring, I look at the sky, and seek solutions to explore how to increase my abilities while inactive, in vengeance of misfortune.
An update on the journey. As the anticipated races draws near, I do my best to take action in a dormant situation.
Street crime to this day is not followed closely enough by the movements of justice and order. But it is even more a painful sight to see innocents getting caught up in this crossfire of dead-end lunacy. Today is show one of my attempts at Poetry combined with some journalism.
Ever look at me and think, "What does this guy think about when he stares into space half his life?" I guess this is a pretty good answer. An entry of how I plan to deal with injury, and make it to my goals and the aim of competing in the League in London, and the Championship in my hometown.
On a warm Tuesday night, I find myself limping and groaning with the inability to walk properly. But this fails to subdue my will to improve, and I succeed in not using any folly in my decision, either.
Society can be a disembodied voice that personifies a demon with an angels voice. Here I stand today to voice my advice and point out 'the traps'.
Please, listen to what I have to say. This is poem about evolution and denial of labels and a self-fulfilling prophecy. This is a battle against a formidable foe called corruption.