Winner

September 6, 2010
By Ghostwriter92 PLATINUM, Salt Lake City, Utah
Ghostwriter92 PLATINUM, Salt Lake City, Utah
45 articles 1 photo 1 comment

Favorite Quote:
"Your life is a gift. Accept it. No matter how screwed up or how painful it seems to be. Somethings are going to work out as if they were destined to happen... As if they were just meant to be"


Today my father is coming to see my first race.
I am the slowest on my team, but I want to make him proud of me.
I must go fast! I must win for him!
Before the race, I tell my father with confidence, “I’ll win for you!”
My father gives me a war smile and wishes me luck.
The race begins. If I want to win, I must be in the front.
In the beginning, I sprint up to the leaders.
I can hear my father cheering me on.
His sweet and tender eyes look upon me.
I can’t fail! I must win for him!
As the race continues I begin to fall behind.
From being in the front, now I am in the back
I try to speed up, but I just can’t. All my energy seems to be gone.
Now I’m last and all I can think is, “disappointment.”
I can’t see my father sad or disappointed, but I’ve given my all.
Tears begin to run down my face.
I can hear the cheers for other parents, but not my father,
Some of my teammates keep cheering me on.
The coach is telling me to keep my head up.
I finally get to the last turn.
I feel like I’ve been running for an hour.
Once I make the turn I see my father, still smiling
He’s still cheering me on
I pass the finish line and only to seem to hear few cheers around me.
My teammates give me high-fives. They tell me, “Good-job,” or “You’ll improve.”
I am so tired.
Then my father comes over to me.
I feel like crying again and before I know it tears are running down my face.
I must admit my tears can run faster than I can.
“I’m sorry father. I tried to win for you, but I came in last.”
My head begins to lower as I continue with my apology, “you must be disappointed in me.”
My father brings me in with his strong arms into his warm chest and holds me close.
As he lets go of me, he puts him hands on my shoulder and with his eyes looking into mine he says lovingly, “No son, no disappointment. I am very proud of you. You don’t have to be number one to be a winner, because to me even being last you are a winner.”
He takes a big breath and says softly, “You’re my little winner.”
My emotion of sadness turns to joy and happiness.
I go in for another hug and say sweetly to him, “I love you father!”
He answers back, “I love you too my little winner.”
As we go to the car Father asks, “How about some ice-cream?
“Yes Please!”
My father roars with laughter, putting his loving hand into mine, and I know, I am a winner to him.

The author's comments:
I am a runner and I just always wanted to write a poem about it. I really wanted to focus on the last runner, because it seems like we focus more on the winner than who is last. We are all winners, there is never a loser.

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