Like chewing up asphalt yard by yard,
With plastic utensils on concrete food,
No place for a sorbet interlude.
Abandoning comfort in the here and the now,
Accepting the work without knowing the how.
They'll be no sign stating, 'You're almost done!'
No checkered flag finish to declare you've won.
Peace comes in inches, for working these miles,
Tears will be kidnapped, and ransomed for smiles.
The long and the hard is no short term deal,
So get out synthetic silverware, begin your bitter meal.
You'll be glad when you've finished, its the only way,
For God to inspect your plate, and declare 'Go out and play!'
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