Start Over Poem by Gulliver Gimble

This race is coming to an end.
I never even heard the starting gun.
A maze for mice and corners that bend.
Im no longer running a race for fun.

Blocked by walls around each day.
Stumbling head and stumbling mind.
Cast off from the suns sinking rays.
Who's name has sealed this dotted line?

One more chance, one more race.
Minutes to hours, winter to fall.
Seems no chance in keeping the pace.
My shelf life expires when sitting so tall.

It calls from some place, I cannot tell.
This life no longer placid but, sober.
No more wishes or pennies for the well.
This race is ending. Can I just start over?

So when will it happen? When will it reveal?
Keeping me unaware and unpredictable.
Keeping me scared, keeping me thrilled.
Knowing it will become something reliable.

This race is coming to a quick halt.
Im still running and the day turns colder.
None of this was ever my fault.
One more day with a chance to start over.