My Event
Track
Sprinters
Like(gasp)
Rockets,
Making
The
Only
Left
Turn.
It(gasp)
Is
Only
A
Hundred(gasp)
Meters
Now,
You(gasp)
Can
Surely(gasp)
Feel
The(gasp)
Burn.
(gasp)(gasp)(gasp)
This poem is about:
Me
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