Finishing the Race

What of the lad who never wins,
but never quits the race?
Who knows before the day begins,
he's doomed to second place.

Two left feet; too many thumbs
but still he plods ahead.
He'll arrive to catch the crumbs,
after the winners have been fed.

Who is this lad of average skills,
who's most of the human race?
One by one he'll climb life's hills,
just trying to keep life's pace.
 

 

Reviews

[Wildecat]

LacyBug, I think you out did yourself this a fabulous poem, with a wonderful message. Thanks for sharing.

[Everchanging Disaster]

I take back my previous statement...I think this may be your best work-love the topic of discussion here!
Thanks for sharing!