I would race you to the end
A race it has become
A facade of lesser feelings
A race I have not won
I would stretch till no more breath
And heaving was I there
And you would saunter across the finish
Though you were not the hare
The goal to the finish
Was not to end at all
But to walk across the line
With both a victor to the call
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem