Worry, riding on her shoulder
like an unrelenting jockey,
cracks the whip and digs his heels
into her neck. The pain is pounding
louder than the thund’ring hoofbeats,
whooshing through her veins and muscles,
pushing through the cloud of logic —
Blinders taut, she’s hearing only
“Faster, faster! Harder, harder!”
Clamoring for front and center,
pressing for the winner’s circle,
Ego’s bellows drown Discernment.
Past Oblivion and further,
getting there before Contentment
catches up is all that matters.