Running Shoes

Another day, another race.
My shoes dirty, heavy.
My expense wasted.
When I'm always last. Never, never first.

With a streak of defeat.
Why do I bother putting them on my feet?
They possibly could be the worst shoes.
Black laces, black soles, black everything.
Just like my heart whenever I race.

As another runner passes me, I look back.
Nothing.
I can't bare to be last again.
I can't be seen with another defeat.
And a sudden motivation kicks in.

I force the legs to go.
Faster, faster, faster…
I pass hundreds to obtain victory.
One more push and I make history.
Finally, first. Not last.
These shoes are now worth something.