The race

2004 poems

When I race others on the track,
They always look at me in my face
And tell me to pick up the pace.
When I did, I told them what is so
Awful with your face?
So they said because
I was racing to fast on the street
And I tripped and fell flat on my face
And I scrapped the whole left side
Of my face.
So I said that is why I was not racing
That fast in the first place.

(c)Cherisse Powers


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