Books
Poetry/Lyrics
Essays
The End Of The Race
A flawless victory!
The war is won.
The task is over and done.
The fist is held high
through the hedge!
The other children course around
like ants fascinated by jam.
Hair asunder.
The trophy sits in golden calmess,
on the podium,
and stunned parents gaze in shock.
A feather falls, from the moribund bird.
"I have won!"
is heard.
|
