A Mind Game

Tue, 07/12/2016 - 14:17 -- Lora

When the whistle blows

I start slow,

I let my breathing relax,

And let a few pass,

Just a few,

I pump my arms,

Pound my feet

On the pavement,

Feel the wind through my hair,

Feel the adrenaline

coursing through me,

Because in the end--

All I want is that pen,

My mind rushing me,

My brain slowing me,

I’m being pulled in two directions,

But in the end--

All I care about is that pen

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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