Just My Poems

#37 Gold (Viewpoint 2)

The pretentious air,
Complacent competitors,
Should my knees be knocking?
Should my breathing be laboured?

The sharpest of knifes,
Fall short, to cut,
The thick tension,
That plagues the cold air.

Inferior to the rest,
Incompetent,
It's too real,
Breathless,
I run.

Achievements,
The trophy of someone else,
Stabbing me where I'm,
The most vulnerable.