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Writer's pictureSistine Basa

A Race That Nobody Owns

Pulled out of the driveway;

And trailed my eyes on such lavish features – wishing I, too, had a Chevrolet

Worn out tires and dented doors; with this battered car of mine,

I know to myself that I wouldn’t be the first to reach the finish line


Red flashing lights flickered and turned green

Stepped on the gas pedal and off I fed my adrenaline

The captivating thought of victory put me on a pedestal

Thinking this race could be monumental


We dashed swiftly through the tracks

Accelerating with speed at max

Until he took the other road, leaving me dumbfounded;

My engine ticked, tires squealed – this is where it all ended


Trying to maintain control as I drifted away;

Fixated on a disparate path, there I was – left astray

A signal to my perception that I must no longer lose grip

I shall keep an eye on the steering wheel and focus on my own trip



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