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Life and Other Drugs

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  • Life and Other Drugs

    The starting block seems foreign,
    A stranger yet inviting
    But more exotic is the batón,
    As it sparks with a flame so exciting.

    It is that very first pull,
    That pushes you off the mark,
    Legs more clumsy than skillful,
    Like you've stepped out of the dark

    Yet grabbing the baton tighter,
    Your stride finds its rhythm
    And as its flame burns brighter
    You look through a new realism,

    The world isn't as small,
    The track only lengthening,
    But the start is harder to recall
    Further blurring while running,

    You pass the batón
    And your mind swirls from the race,
    Different twirls, same pattern,
    A psychedelic embrace

    But as the euphoria flees,
    You take the starting block once more,
    For it's your only hope to appease,
    The nostalgia that starting bore,

    Then passing the baton to someone younger,
    You almost stop to cry...
    For now you're just another runner,
    Forever chasing your first high.