The Race - Poem by Natalie Collins
Once upon a morning chilly, while I ran the course so hilly,
Over many a steep and grassy pathway to the finish line
While I struggled, really panting, suddenly there came a chanting,
As of someone proudly granting, granting me the first place time.
“’Tis a spectator, ” I whispered, “chanting for me ev’ry time -
Always there in rain or shine.”
Ah, so clearly I remember it was in the cold November;
And each runner trying so hard to be first to cross the line.
Eagerly I tried to hurry; - so I wouldn’t have to worry
All the people were so blurry - blurry but I felt so fine -
I was getting close to ending, very tired but feeling fine
All the rest I did outshine!
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