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The Runner
GS (April 7 1936 / Moe Victoria Australia)

The Runner

Poem By George Savige

I am an athlete running,
With hopes to beat the rest.
I'm using all my cunning,
To be the very best.

Another lap we're rounding,
I'm breathing very hard.
Down the track I'm bounding,
And pacing every yard.

Weakness fills my being,
I see the finish line.
Gladness comes with seeing,
For now this race is mine.

Then looking back, I stumble,
And someone flashes past;
How quickly now I humble,
For I will come in last.

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Comments (1)

This is an excellent poem but the last two lines do not do it justice. Perhaps How quickly I am made humble, As I finally come in last.


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