• chaoticallysmallpoetry


The wind is on my face,

opening my body to change.

Wanting to win first prize instead of participation.

I am tired of doing the same thing— expecting a different result.

Keeping a positive mind, not getting stuck in the shit.

Crossing the finish line and hearing the crowd cheer for me,

echoing in my ears.

Taking in the moment of succeeding,

knowing I couldn't get here with out falling.


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