Twenty Four Kays. A poem.
Twenty four kilometres I walked on a whim “I can do this, no worries,” what was I thinking? Five hours, two blisters and a sore ankle later And I’m wondering if I should feel any way better Was it just for my ego, or just to feel good Or was it just for the pain, as I know that it should And in the end, I can’t deny that which is true Walking’s a poor substitute for being with you . For the full story about my little walking episode, click here. Steve 🙂 Continue reading Twenty Four Kays. A poem.
