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Thursday, November 17, 2005

hidden

grasp tightly thy gilded trophy
for it is the symbol of sweat poured and fears overcome.

the weight room, the stretching, the cross courses, the road,

the repeats, the climbs, the spins, sprints and crashes.

...all for an arbitrarily drawn line. A completely immature activity of self gratification.

it is a pair of decaying blinders....

stupid attempts to block out the horror, the tryanny, the unending stream of cruelty, the blood, the many faces of suffering - hunger's pinch, greed's drool, avarice's squint, fear's snarl, hate's laughter.

to shut out the ugliness

i

ride
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2 comments:

X Bunny said...

isn't that why we all do a lot of what we do?

norcalcyclingnews.com said...

word