Is it you? Are you the prize?

Is the race won? Is this contest done?

It does not feel as though it is

Where is the roar of the crowd?

Where are my medals that I will hang proud?

So odd the finish line is here where I started

It feels like such a long time ago that I departed

The contestants are packed, the stands all gone

Maybe I'll make a another lap

There's no whistle, no there's no starter gun

Maybe I walked when I should of run

Sometimes I sprinted when I should of strolled

At times I should of stopped completely

There is no such thing as second place

When you are running a one person race