The starting pistol cracks: <br />Now there's no going back. <br />My thoughts are collected. <br />The air is pure electric. <br />My soul is alive <br />With determination and drive. <br />My muscles are burning. <br />To win, I am yearning. <br />I'm taking the strain. <br />I'm feeling the pain. <br />I've a burning desire. <br />My lungs are on fire. <br />I've got something to prove. <br />My performance is smooth. <br />In my ears, my breath's loud, <br />As is the noise of the crowd. <br />The crowd, they are cheering. <br />The end, I'm now nearing. <br />My heart is full of pride, <br />As I take my final strides. <br />I reach the finishing line, <br />And the victory is all mine. <br />My medal I now hold - <br />And, yes, it's the GOLD!<br /><br />Angela Wybrow<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-runner-15/
