The Hill

I walked up the hill
Cursing it with the stomping of my feet
Out of breath and no water
I stand at the top and look out over
I don't like it
Not at all, not very much
My stomach aching with intense pain
Round and oddly shaped
And stubborn. Up and down
It's black pavement smoothed over soft
like dark, glassy water
And the patches of broken gravel
on it's sides for safe travels
Breathless trails all around it
Twist and turn without consideration
It was a painful run
A short burst of motivation
And ended
Just as quick
On two feet, a hill I could not run