I press on

A poem of pressing and pushing forward

Echoes and memories, 

two friends familiar, 

illusions, enchantments, 

vapors disappear. 

I pass thru unscathed and still I wander.  

Stumbling, bumbling, 

feeble hands reaching, 

grasping, groping, 

still pressing, 

perceived as drunken in my weary trundle.  

Isolating continuation, 

pushing, moving forward, 

no cheers, no applause, 

all vanity, all vexing, 

all a mirage of pride, 

all behind, 

continuing on to the goal.  

This marathon, this test of endurance, 

just to finish will be the prize, 

racing against one self seems contradictory and crazy, 

yet still, 

dubious thoughts seek to dissuade this endeavor and undertaking, 

I will not listen to these inner demons, 

what I began I will finish,

 though the line is nowhere in site, 

I press on.     

Author's Note

Pressing forward is sometimes so hard but keep going forward.....