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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