He crossed the finish line, he won the race
Then he told me that his name was Jace,
With perspiration running down his cheek
He proved unto me that he was not weak,
A smile then covered his entire face.
He started the run at a slower pace
Then he ran as though, as he was in chase,
The color of his pride then appeared in his cheek.
He crossed the finish line.
You must not ever think about last place;
That reality you must always embrace,
Remember that the quitter is not always the meek
To win, a victory you must always ardently seek,
But, first you must buy a trophy case.
He crossed the finish line.
Randy L. McClave
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem