I’ll win, but at what cost

I’ll bring it home, to what applause

I’ll reign supreme, yet the mudslide is thick

I’ll cross the finish line, with aches and broken bones

Talk to me without the advesarial stance

We can dance to careless whispers

Hopscothing in the moonlight

Sipping on the orange straw

Wondering why so many are gone

Yet I remain

I’m a champion