Sonnet #1

March 7, 2017
By , Los Alamitos, CA

So many people fight for fleeting gold.
They leave the others in the dust and race
Each other until they are graying, old,
Old and slow and unable to chase
The gold they sought when they were young and free.
But that same gold has now decayed and aged.
Just like the people who once chased and see
The new generation who fought and raged
In the same race that inspired the old.
To train, to run, to beat the best, to win,
To be the best, to enter the grand fold,
To bear the weight of pressure under skin.
And yet achievements are forgotten now.
Winners old and new know this is so.

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