The Sixth Slippery Slope Of My Phantasms

The phantasms eat me.

They once asked us to race,
in third grade.

I told mom and dad
at dinner...
said I wanted to win,
said I thought I'd win.

Mom and dad encouraged.

The day came,
and near breathless I walked out
to the makeshift, dirt track
they had made for us.

Sprinted with everything;
all reserves of strength.
Five crossed before me, though.

I came in a dusty sixth,
barely faster than the fat ones,
and it hasn't changed since.

Author's Note

Part of a series of poems.

Reviews

[Gandré]

Well, this had an own poetical costume. The rhyme was kinda capriciously special, not an every day creation, I like to read. And I loved the surrealistic message. I love it when I can take something... home with me... when I'm leaving a site...this won't be the last time I came to read. I love suspicious, deep poetry.
And thanks for reading my poem "Sanity". I appreciate your thoughts upon it...Yes I loved your reading carefully! I am not a native speaker; so I am thankful for corrections. :) ...we read each other. smile.