Life is a running track

Things are moving fast
perhaps faster than I can follow
the feeling I can't grasp
or even swallow
I walk and the pressure is to run
I run and the pressure is to fly
nothing gives me any fun
only the desire to cry
Tears don't come out of eyes
Just the constant pain
I look around, I can't see anything
Just the emptiness in my veins
Just the pressure to run
Until when will I be running?
Why do I need to run at all?
Maybe life is a running track
and the finish line 
is death match

by Renato de Oliveira