this is the trick
in the league of my own
i compete to no one
except myself
i rise and fall and fall
and rise
there is no medal
no laurel nothing about
a sculpted trophy
it is just this fun run
this journey of the pilgrim
it is just this one man show
with me both as critic
and fan
i am the chair, the lights
and the curtain
the red carpet, the bell,
the clock and the
floor.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem