Is it you? Are you the prize?
Is the race won? Is this contest done?
It does not feel as though it is
Where is the roar of the crowd?
Where are my medals that I will hang proud?
So odd the finish line is here where I started
It feels like such a long time ago that I departed
The contestants are packed, the stands all gone
Maybe I'll make a another lap
There's no whistle, no there's no starter gun
Maybe I walked when I should of run
Sometimes I sprinted when I should of strolled
At times I should of stopped completely
There is no such thing as second place
When you are running a one person race
YOU ARE READING
Hearts gone cold
PoetryThis is a compilation of poetry and thoughts most centering around the idea of lost love or loneliness. #1 sad poems 1-19-19 #1 compilation 1-19-19 #1 poet 1-29-19 #1 deep poem 2-22-19
