Tortoise
A reflection on victory, and what it means in the grand scheme of things
I am a tortoise
Winning races by hair’s breadth
By hare’s breadth?
That’s accurate
But I focus on the moment instead
Because steadfastness is often stubborn
And you’d be called difficult and obstinate
And they’ll try to push you in your shell
While they sit around and procrastinate
I mind my own business and plod
And if you tell me yours, I’ll nod
Because I’m a stranger to your afflictions
And I have no business playing God
And they’ll speak about me in sordid tales
Some where I’m like a slug
And others will call me the best of the cheetahs
The best of the cheaters?
That’s the way of jesters and storytellers
I call it fucked
And me and that rabbit meet up every evening
I share a laugh with him
He shares his life with me
We were both legends
Now we’re both lessons
Races are a construct
Are they constructive though?
Because he took a nap and rested up well
And didn’t find himself pushed into any boxes
Because I don’t really want to be an example to you
But as a metaphor, come out of your shell
Because heaven might lie within your reach
Give it a try, and give them hell
