A Racers Words
Oh shed no tears it makes hard to steer.
As this racer comes so dear.
As I enter turn one I see what I have done.
On to turn two this is something new.
Racing in to turn three is now no breeze.
I come to turn four there will be no more.
I now stand at the wall that has taken
those to fall.
I watch the new racer who will set the pace.
'So on to the finishline, Oh son of mine
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem