179. It

I run towards it
In a frantic state
I don' t know where
to go
But I have to get it.

I run aimlessly forward
But with a goal.
Not knowing what to
expect
Just simply not thinking.

I catch up to it
I reach forward to grasp it
But my fingers do not touch it.
I am in pursuit of something
The chase begins once again

I bow my head
in despair
It cannot be caught.