Alvin Chan


Sweat, Blood, Paddles - Poem by Alvin Chan

Tension tore the air
as the gentle breeze blew nowhere
the starting signal was sounded
instinctively, all boats reacted
raring to go
all paddlers know
hands will burn
blisters will return
they never give up
they never thought of syrup
they only thought of attaining glory
to leave behind a story
a story to be told
a legacy so old
for all to remember,
their sweat in September


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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, April 13, 2010

Poem Edited: Tuesday, April 13, 2010


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