Track Athlete

I tend to say I hurdle through life

 

Just like on the track I never look back

 

I’m fast cutting through people like a knife

 

I can’t stop moving so they won’t attack

 

My legs are screaming as I continue

 

One foot in front of the other I say

 

The finish line appears as a white hue

 

I gain first place it becomes a grand day

 

I breath hard my mouth as dry as cotton

 

Over the last hurdle I land with grace

 

The girls behind me all but forgotten

 

Cross the finish line a smile on my face

 

So thankful I am done for the meet

 

Work is never easy for an athlete

 

This poem is about: 
Me
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