The Race


United States
38° 47' 3.9228" N, 94° 16' 27.7068" W

Pitter patter, the rhythmic beat,
As my shoes and the sidewalk meet.
Drip, drip, the continuous beat,
As water smashes concrete.

I lift my chin to feel the rain’s embrace.
I let the drops hit my tear-stained face.
The chilling specks soothe my skin,
As gusts of howling winds begin.

I quicken my steady walking pace,
Broadening my steps and their muddy trace.
Rolls of pounding thunder deafen my ears.
It’s all I could do to let loose of more tears.

At this point, I’m running frantically,
I trip and I fall all helplessly.
The icy ground is paralyzing as I land with a thud.
I glance at my hands, now caked in thick mud.

A stickling pain reverberates in my head,
I run my fingers to my brow, revealing a new crimson red.
I scream, and it echoes, but I know that no one hears me.
My pain and anger build up, and then rip open free.

I lay and shudder on the ground, curl tightly up in a ball,
I close out the world surrounding me, I make myself small.
A newly formed warmth comforts and draws me in,
I look up at the cleared sky, and I part my lips and grin.

The sun is so dazzling, it’s presence, I’ll commend.
Maybe, after all, my life isn’t at end.
Maybe it’s the start, of something fresh, and something new.
It’s time to forget all the things that I’ve been through.


Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.


If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741