First One To Lose The Race
I can picture it,
me lagging behind,
the small cluster of others
sprinting ahead,
or maybe they don’t need to sprint
because they’re at the destination
already, a sunny field
with delectable answers
while mine are made
from glue and tatty
scraps of card.
I’ll proffer amateur responses,
ones that’ll look drab
and milky next to
sentences that glow
and dazzle the eyes.
Slipping behind
is not what I have in mind
but one must deal with what comes,
the abrasions and prickles
and the panting
to keep up.
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