Untitled Poem (?)

On your mark, get set, go!
I hear the gun shout... blow!
The race began as fair as
can be but a mile down
the road- am already feeling a
heavy load on me.As if my heart
would stop racing for life's
treasures, I ponder and wonder the road behind.
 Like a slave driven to be freed Victory is all I need. But
All I want is to rest cause
I cant run anymore
Im done! I had to let my mind simmer.
Reality struck, im out of luck
But I wont stop, no,no, I wont stop
thats not how I want
to go, be seen, like eyes are mean.

Need I give crowds a chance to laugh
and scorn; look at him, look at him
all tattered and worn!
Moving with the motion, but
no life is there- you scream
for air but, but nobody to hear, to care.
The crowd shouts, go, go ,go!
Dont stop, Dont stop, go!
Looking at the rest
they seem fine as hell, faces full of
glow- am I the only one
whose slow?
Each looking at the other
as if to get some approval,
a question mark like a big crime scene
from back seat spectators screams unusual
The race is over!...the race is over!, before it
even began,
They all want to rest
just like me with feet and hand
But being watched by
the price on our head
we must run, run until we're dead.


Not dead last, I see a comrade
fallen down to earth as low
as can be fallen. I look at him
putting my feet together
lest I become like him
all worn to fetter.
So I put on my face
and beg my feet one last push
I shoot ahead for I wont be caught
last as dead.
Those in front seats dont have to run
they sit and eat from high above.
They pay their money, there belly is full
to watch a show only a freak would go.
If I ruled the show Id free all
these runners,
But I dont own this show-
Im just a spectator.
watching from where I stand
but not with favor.


Mythical_Poet
Copyright
(Long Time Coming -2011)