There stands my wimpy neighbor John
next to that tall bronzed Amazon.
He’s looking sort of pale and wan
there on the local courthouse lawn
wishing the others would be gone
so he could vanish over yon.
He’s feeling rather put-upon,
for when asked by his buddy Ron
to join this charity marathon,
he thought it was a phonathon!
Imagine his extreme reaction,
for he has not the slightest fraction
of running talent nor attraction
to any sports-like interaction.
To him, athletics are abstraction.
Since he’s much given to inaction,
mobility’s a mere distraction.
He’d commit some lane infraction,
suffer a spinal compaction,
and probably wind up in traction!
For, although his finger’s ready,
his running legs are less than steady.
He knows this charity’s a good one,
and though he wishes that he could run,
wishes do not equal training,
and he’s not into muscle straining.
Prepared today to call for them,
he’s not prepared to fall for them.
He will not join this running faction.
instead, he’s calling in his action.
The prompt today was marathon.