• My Most Favorite Favorite Favorite Poem Ever, THE RACE

    14. Mai. 2009, 5:30

    "Quit give up your beaten"

    They shout at you and plead

    "Theres just to much aginst you

    This time you cant succed".

    And as I stand to hang my head

    In front of failures face

    My downward fall is broken by

    The memory of a race

    And hope refills my weakened will

    As I recall that scene

    Or just the thought of that short race

    Rejuvenates my being

    Childerens race, young boys

    Young men, how I rember well

    Excitement sure, but also fear

    It wasnt hard to tell

    They all lined up so full of hope

    Each thought to will the race

    Or tie for first, or if not that

    At least take second place

    The fathers watched from off the side

    Each cheering for his son

    And each boy hoped to show his dad

    That he could be the one

    The whistel blew and off they went

    Young hearts and hopes afire

    To win and be the hero there

    Was each yound boys desire

    And one boy in particular

    Whos dad was in the crowd

    Was running near the lead and thought

    "My dad will be so proud"

    But as the speeded down the field

    Accross a shallow dip

    The little boy who thought to win

    Lost his step and slipped

    Trying hard to catch himself

    With hands flew out of brace

    And amid the laughter of the crowd

    He fell flat on his face

    But as he fell his dad stood up

    And showed his anxious face

    Which to the boy so clearly said

    "Get up and win the race"

    He quickly rose, no damage done

    Behind a bit thats all

    And ran with all his might and mind

    To make up for the fall

    So anxious to restore himself

    To catch up and to win

    His mind went faster than his legs

    He slipped and fell again

    He wished then that he had quit before

    With only one disgrace

    "I'm hopless as a runner now

    I shouldn't try to race"

    But in the laughing crowd he searched

    And found his fathers face

    That steady look which said again

    "Get up and win the race"

    So up he jumped to try again

    Ten yards behind the last

    If I'm going to gain those yards he thought

    I've got to move real fast

    Exerting everything he had

    He regained eight or ten

    But trying hard to catch the lead

    He slipped and fell again

    Defeat, he lay there silently

    A tear dropped from his eye

    Theres no sense running anymore

    Three strikes, I'm out, why try?

    The will to rise had disappeared

    All hope had fled away

    So far behined so error prone

    A loser all the way

    "I've lost, so what", he thought

    I'll live with my disgrace

    But then he thought about his dad

    Whom soon he'd have to face

    "Get up" the echo sounded low

    "Get up" and take your place

    You were not ment for failure here

    "Get up", and win the race

    With borrowed will "get up" it said

    "You haven't lost at all"

    For winning is no more than this

    To rice each time you fall

    So up he rose to run once more

    And with a new commit

    He resolved, win or lose

    At least he shouldent quit

    So far behind the others now

    The most he'd ever been

    Still he'd give it all he had

    And run as though to win

    Three times he'd fallen, stumbling

    Three times he'd rose again

    To far behind to hope to win

    He'd still run to the end

    They cheered the winning runner

    As he crossed the line first place

    Head high, and pround, and happy

    No falling, no disgrace

    But when the fallen youngester

    Crossed the line, last place

    The crowd gave him the greater cheer

    For finishing the race

    And even though he came in last

    With head bent low, unproud

    You would have thought he'd won the race

    To listen to the crowd

    And to his dad he saidly said

    "I did't do to well"

    "To me you won", his father said

    "You rose each time you fell"