One by one they run, different colors and size, all in poor shape and weak.
Crossing the finish line they tumble to the floor, hitting the wrong mark over and over again.
I feel empty, exhausted; perhaps my thoughts need more training.
Empty: when you know what you want to say but your words fail you, hitting the listeners ears with a loud clang bringing no illumination but only confusion.
Written for Sonya’s TLT – WEEK Twenty-one