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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
This about a motor race. No particular race, but just based on my experience... Loosely based!

Submitted: April 07, 2010

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Submitted: April 07, 2010



Away from the line, after the lights changed to green,
He accelerates hard, grimacing through the screen.
The race is long, it’s going to be tough,
His competitors are fast, it could get pretty rough.
The first corner beckons, it’s getting a bit tight,
Diving down the inside, he gets it just right.
The rear end sliding, exiting the bend,
Our driver relaxing, ninety nine laps ‘til the end.
He qualified 6th, but he’s had some good races,
His experience, helps him make up some places.
By the end of the first lap, he’s sitting in third,
But he knows what to do, this guy is no nerd.
Flames spitting from the exhaust, braking for the turns,
It’s slippery from some oil, but from this he learns.
The next time around, he remembers this bit,
And passes another driver, showing his true grit.
Halfway through the race, he’s made it into the lead,
But he must stop in the pits, new tyres he does need.
Regaining the lead, after the others have pitted,
The strategy is working, his rivals outwitted.
Lap ninety six and just a few more to go,
Things could go wrong, but he doesn’t let it show.
Our driver is calm, at one with his car,
Finishing first, this Superstar.
Receiving his trophy, on the podium,
Shaking the hands of his rivals, a real gentleman.

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