Nearing The Finish Line

I went a speed walking and what did I see,
Supporting each other amicably,
Were two old boys, arms linked together.
Their faces each strained from the endeavor.
They shuffled along,
On their daily sojourn,
Not hurrying, no haste,
Oblivious of any time race.
Their end post arrived at,
Was a bench on which they sat,
With newspapers in hand ready to read,
Both oblivious of life passing them at high speed.

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