The Fight

Sometimes…

sometimes I dream of my own death

or that I’m dying.

It usually occurs

when I’m in the middle

of a troublesome,

weighty,

trial.

When I want to give up,

throw in the towel,

call it a day.

“I can’t do it,” I say,

“I want to run,

run away

and hide.”

Then the dream comes.

And the fight comes with it.

I will not give up.

I will not throw in the towel.

I will not run away.

I will finish my course.

I will fight to the finish.

I got this.

© 2015 ck’s days

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