I've never stopped; my legs are tiring
I see the finish line, yet it is far.
I fear that I'm closer to expiring
Yelling a Nike, but there are no Spar-
-tans near. Instead I scream into the wind
And waste my energy; but still feel better
Shouting than silent. Oh, I am splint-shinned
And can but stumble loudly. The pace-setter
Turns back to see me lame, but never halting.
I will continue, though my feet should fail,
Though angry air is currently assaulting
My heavy lungs, though all my parts should quail.
And at the finish, there's no victory
Just a completion that exhausted me.
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