Runner's High

Foggy air clouds my vision,

As I travel through the woods. 

My lungs and legs burn with acid,

I am finally understood. 

The gravel crunches below my feet,

And my thoughts come alive. 

When my body struggles to breathe,

That’s when I thrive. 

The world is a canvas,

My mind is the brush.

When I am running,

I can never get enough. 

I am inspired by the oxygen I crave.

The pine trees whisper to me,

“You’re no longer enslaved.”

I am no longer a child of the system,

I can think on my own.