I have turned page after page
impatiently looking for an end,
as if the magic happening inbetween
the first and the last page
did not matter at all.
I tried to run as fast as I could,
saw the finish line more than once,
like a fatamorgana, so close,
yet so unreal.
Eventually I stopped.
I looked around, saw this gray world
giving birth to colourful explosions.
Sometimes, I realized,
it is not about who reaches the end first,
but who enjoys every inch of this almost endless run.