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

Comments

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