The Race
The Race
I came to wear old jeans,
I was racing,
I completed the format.
I hold you to a higher standard.
I feel like a mess and,
just didn't have any energy
I will get through this.
Failure hurts, but
I was called to a higher standard.
👁 3💬 0
Something wrong with this poem?
Replies are closed for this poem.
Your Poem's Voice
See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.
Comments (0)
No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.
Log in to leave a comment.