Forward March

On we go,

up the hill,

steeper and steeper.

Our breath growing short,

our knees straining,

our feet throbbing.

And still, on we go.

Step by step,

we grow more winded.

The hill becomes a mountain,

the soreness is spreading,

and still on we go.

On we go,

up the steep hill,

step by step,

on we go.