The Fight Is Staying at the Top

In a race to become number one,

There’s no escaping a wrath;

Even wins can cause a bloodbath.

What’s the point if it isn’t fun?

Your dreams go limp; they’re scrapped; they’re done!

Frivolous things get pushed away,

Striving to meet your goals some day.

If the air is fragrant with doubt,

Run away if you sniff it out.

Your name could become a mainstay.

Prompted from Ronovan Writes Décima Poetry Challenge Prompt at:

Prompted from Three Things Challenge at:

Prompted from V.J.’s Weekly at:


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