The Race
The Race poem stories
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adambennell
adambennell Community member
Autoplay OFF   •   2 months ago
Anticipation pulses through my veins, I feel my ancestors galloping across great plains,

The Race

Anticipation pulses through my veins,

I feel my ancestors galloping across great plains,

By training I am held,

By fury I'll be propelled,

In my mind the race is won,

All that remains is to get it done.

The race begins.

And time stands still.

But I do not.

All at once I am unleashed

The crowd roars, and the lit spark ignites with terrible power

I am a stampeding weapon of doom

I am laying waste to my enemies

I eat up ground before me like a starving man given food

I soar across towering obstacles I render inconsequential

This is it!

My victory!

My purpose!

My conquering of all who stand against me.

I am first across the finishing line,

And victory of course is mine,

But the crowd cheers another name,

Surely that is mine to claim?

I look around, my back is bare!

Where is the one who was sat there?

I look about for one to tell,

Where it was my sodding jockey fell.

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