what being a swimmer means to me...

Everyday, we train.
Worknig through the hurt and pain.
While our peers, at home, are playing,
At the pool, there is no delaying.

In the water, we give our hears.
Waiting for competition season to start.
Two to five hours, six days a week,
Doing whatever it takes to reach the peak.

When the day comes, we are ready to win,
Racing the laps, begining to end.
Envisioning success, beforehand, inside;
Imagining those champions before us who've died.

When our heats are finally called,
We stand on the block, staight and tall.
Waiting for the buzzer, we grab the edge,
Our fingers and toes curled over the ledge.

Finally, as the last heat finishes,
The buzzer sounds and we're off swimming like fishes.
When in the water, we are truly alone;
Each one of us comprised simply of muscle and bone.

Onlookers, we hold in incomparable suspense,
Cheering and screaming, flashing the lens.
The suddenly as we run low on fire,
The wall comes to view, we reach further and higher.

It takes a lot, to understand,
Why the hell we'd choose water over land.
When asked what we love though, the answer is clear.
When we look in the mirror, we see a swimmer.

Submitted: June 06, 2007

© Copyright 2022 Scarlett Faust. All rights reserved.

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