Ongoing

There is a glad running game,
Offered to winners already.
They climb and stand, fight and work,
Worrying like swimmers forever.
They like openings and blockage,
Feelings and emotions of splendid behaviour.
What game can we build from scratch
Like this occupation of sport?
Hazards are nowhere and somewhere we ignore,
Their running games create disharmony.

poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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