In a rowboat racing a yacht am I,
desperately trying to catch up to the
monstrosity, but to no avail, my
arms quivering from pain. He blows by me,
laughing all the way. I dreamt of the day
I won the race, the day I won the prize.
But it was a dream, not a thought to stay.
I reject reality, shift my eyes
to the bounty given to the victor,
and wish it was mine. How I wish and pray
that I defeat the odds, become a blur
in his view, and break the tape. Everyday
I wait. But it is not waiting, only
anticipation... not to be lonely.
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