Wednesday, February 10, 2010


An original poem written by me

Ready, Set, Go
Said the man at the line
While I stare at the figure
Awaiting to clock my time

I stand up straight
only to squat back down
A split second disappears
As I stare aimlessly to the ground

Fire shot one two echo
I quickly jump up into my sprinting strut
My muscles react
as if I’m one of Pavlov’s muts.

No one is around me
As I’m running full speeeeeeeeeeed
I hear nothing except the wind
What else do I need?

The end result approaches near
As I tilt my head down like a prayer
Please finish with dignity, pride
Not in last, to be ridiculed by some nay sayer

As I catch my breath
that got away some seconds ago
I get in line with the others
With a stick in my hand I folllllow

There are 4 legs in front of me
Each contracting like my own
But my mind is racing, no pun intended
What place did I finish, what zone?

I hear first and second
With no ieyesi on me
Until I hit the table where it is written

Third place? Third best?
Does that even make sense?

I worked so hard weeks prior
Maybe because I went in tense?

I wanted first,
not second or even last,
But third? Third?
It all went by so fast.

I packed my bags up
Threw my stick of embarrassment on top
Hopped on the bus in the back
Didn’t move until the final S T O P

iPod blasting in my ears
Hopes and dreams still reflecting in my eyes
Next time I’ll get it after I train until I collapse
Next time I’ll reach for first, reach for the skies

Dedicated to all high school track sprinters who always think about the next race...

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