Where was I when they said
'On your mark, get set, Go! '
I didn't hear the gun
Nor see the rest of the people running ahead
Or even the feeling of feet gently pounding away
I've fallen behind
Covering no ground, feeling lost with myself
Unprepared describes my position
I guess I was never prepared
So far behind, I can't see the finish line
Do I even deserve to be in this race?
The competition is breath taking
So, walking seem to be a good idea
And I begin to feel my placement in the universe
Where I should belong
Not in no race
Nor competition
Or in a popularity contest
I've noticed I'm not on the track anymore
That I was choosing a path layed out for me
Not a course
Nor a line
Or even an arrow telling me where to go
But a foot print from where I was
And my sight on the real finish line
My life.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem