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The Race

Once again, the starting blocks
make me wish I would've stretched;
causing me to be more limber
and, the race not so far-fetched.

It's quiet at the beginning
the sounds of silence rush my ears,
and, I know from other examples
how to disregard my fears.

It's so lonely when you listen
to the blood run through your veins,
causing a dizziness so blinding
only pain, and regret remains.

Afterwards, that burn does seem to fade
bringing the finish-line into sight;
affording sheer determination
to aid my finishing with all my might.

But, should my footsteps falter
or, I'm forced to veer outside;
I will run then, with that much more
fury, to compensate my stride.

Then, the knowledge will rush over me
that I did tackle every "test";
and, through it all I persevered
knowing I truly tried my best.

Too often there are circumstances
sent by fate, to impede our way,
but, we'll be judged on courage
by what we do....not, what we say.

Style / type: 
Structured: Western
Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Review Request (Direction): 
How does this theme appeal to you?
How was the beginning/ending of the poem?
Is the internal logic consistent?
Last few words: 
A metaphor for "life"....I used to run long distance, cross-country. Seemed odd to me, at the time...because, I lived in soo many "hoods", that "race" was never a factor, with me! :) Lol! docmaverick.
Editing stage: 


This poem should be on the door as you leave the dressing room for the track or field, it's such a motivational piece. But also it could be about life. Great write...Regards Roscoe..

Roscoe Llane,

Religion will rip your faith off, and return
for the mask of disbelief that's left.

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