This is heaven, surely not here.

When I turned 15, everyone started catching up with me

At first it was a fun game.

I bought new running shoes

and stayed a good mile or two ahead

Never minding the people I brushed past.

But bystanders are only bystanders

if they don't speak.

Mine knew me and how I see.

My feet were walking quietly but quick

and the race didn't seem as such,

and I retained my tenuous rank

as leader untouched by the pack.

Fine, and funny,

those behind can sneak by too

when you do not look to check

yourself against them.

Walking now, sliding down

Not given up but steady

not good enough to break

the mold is cold

and a few years down the road

I won't be worth that effort.