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The Race


Four. The gun triggers the stampede Nervous, Excited, and Full of Potential Shoving, Jostling, Striving for Position Three. The Pack Begins to Form Quick, Courageous, the Leaders Emerge Strategy, Tactics, it all comes to play Two. The Pace is Brutal Desperate, Gritty, the Struggle to Hold On Waiting for the Gun Lap BANG! One more lap With Heavy Legs, Dry Throats, and Sticky Tongues The Sprint for the Finish It's All on the Line The Home Straight Away- Sprinting, Appendages Long Since Gone Numb They Lean for the Tape Diving Across the Only Line That Matters 1600 meters. 4 laps. 1 run. 1 goal.
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Comments (1)

megorunner
Trying a different format, a poem about racing the 1600

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