An original poem written by me
Ready, Set, Go
Said the man at the
While I stare at the figure
Awaiting to clock my time
I stand up straight
only to squat back down
A split second
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
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
3.
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...
No comments:
Post a Comment