Race On, Heart; you mustn’t wait.
Close on your heels, pain chases.
Never rest – living lies patient to catch you late.
Waste not a moment; fill each and every
With Ecstasy, self-Importance, and Belonging.
Have you done enough today? Enough –
In the morning you’ll fear it wasn’t:
Fear the day before wasted as the day ahead
As the life of days before, each of which
Won’t be among the number that remain.
Race On, Heart; and fuel your feet
With Candy, Cocaine, Caffeine,
Dopamine, Epinephrine, Amphetamine.
Stand as a boy on the prow of some ship,
Your daring face thrust into salt and spray.
Sail this image swiftly, outride truth:
That the strain grows rough and rougher,
While your sails are steadily becalming,
For behind the image, you are an old heart.
Race On, Heart, ahead of sleep
And its restive embrace, for rest is Idleness
And Laziness, a thieving Prison of waking needs.
And in the depths of that cell, worse awaits:
Recollections, Regrets, self-Evaluation,
And the cruelty and disappointment of dreams.
Or laying upon the covers, lest yourself find
– a moment of weakness – in the twilight of your mind
Your lonely lips searching for hers in the dark.
guy de truc 