Finish Line Poem by Matthew Boisjolie

Advanced trying and the ability to perform, means nothing in the end of the day, you know you didn't look out, to see the hands on the clock move, and your spirit vanish, once it hit 12, staring out the window for your chance, to catch it floating in the air, your were part of the team, as yesterdays memories will soon disipate, and create a mist of blur, causing you to fall, and making you studder, but how can you end what you have not started?