Sweat dripping down my neck,
breathing hard,
tired, so tired.
Pushing myself on,
trying to get a better time.
I can see
the heat waves
rippling
along the
ground.
It feels
as if
one-hundred degrees
out here.
Long shoe laces
dangle down.
A toe
catches
in the loop.
The jet blackness
of the track
rushes up.
Slowly at first,
but then
faster and faster.
There is no pain
as my face reaches
the black-top.
My glasses protect
from worse injury.
What I thought
was sweat
drips down the
side
of my face
as I clamber up
from the ground.
"You're bleeding!"
my running partner
exclaims.
"Am I?"
I ask.
Suddenly,
I begin to feel
the pain.
I am bleeding.
We race
back
to the teacher.
Our time:
14:55.
Then, he notices
the huge scrape
along the
side
of my
face.
He calls everyone
back.
All together,
we walk back
to school.
I am now
a
P.E.
legend.
____________________________________________________________
A/N This poem is told from the point of view of a friend. I am dedicating this chapter to her because she has told me the story thousands of times, and I wanted to share it with all of you. I hope that none of you peeps fall running the mile like she did.
YOU ARE READING
Poetry
PuisiA bunch of poems that I have written. As you read more of the poems, the style changes as I change. This is a time capsule for my poetry.
