Dole it out

Everything a glance would suffice,

of what in the green grass lies.

Trotting, trudging, falling and sighing,

feet still moving through hollow cries.

Stopping, stepping, moving again,

fear balled up into minisicule fists.

Jumping , flying, crashing and trying,

life can’t be summed up in lists.

Run little soldier,

Run for your life.

There's a whole world chasing behind,

There's a whole world waiting ahead.

-V.S.