My left foot doesn’t like my right
They fight, each time I get into a rhythm
When I just get comfortable, then ‘smack’
Out of nowhere they will collide
Which makes me think, was one of them planning it all along?
Each time I run, are they thinking of a way to stop each stride?
Or are my shoes too wide?
Can it be that they just don’t like me?
Have they talked to my wonky eye-
Like a spy, and then decide why they should even try
To do something nice for me?
Have they spoken to my right knee to ask how it feels?
To have someone so close constantly on the attack
That one moment be fine, and then suddenly ‘whack’
And make me want to turn back
Have they teamed up with my lungs-
That I thought were so young, but when I run
Suddenly act they are the size of a pea,
Or is that just me?
Because to me, a moment a go, felt great
I thought this time we started off on a clean slate?
Should they join in,
or pretend not to care what's happening else where
They just move back and forth, acting like they are taking the weight
And they are not involved in the debate
That the rest of my body demands I feel when I run
Maybe Im jumping the gun, or maybe I just shouldn’t run all
As my body clearly wants me to fall
Or fail, certainly not win but not quite lose
Perhaps if I bought new shoes, they might have a clue?