First, it was the little things that mattered
And I was too small to now have the memory
But my parents worked until I spoke, then crawled
And I guess then they felt victory.
Then, it was on to bigger things, like the alphabet
Then shoe tying and Checkers, King Me!
Baseball, Football and Archery
And in some instances I cried, Victory!
So I reached the time of labored, cracking voice
And school would end only after an eternity
And girls would sometimes smile at me, victory!
Time passed with me behind it, pressing it, take me!
Into a garbled mess of decisions I dove, a young man at last
And nothing ailed me quite as much as the goal of victory
But without reason or warning the games and the rules had changed.
I found the world lacking good sport and lost my will for victory.
Now, I’m older, slower and fatter than I used to be
Which is just fine with me but the world wants victory
And I smile and pity myself on the mornings when,
With labored breath I tie my shoes, thinking, Victory!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem