The Speed Museum

Flashlight, my face is a grey smudged blare Eyes burn red with a savage hunger’s flare An ancient thirst for the taste of glorious victory Hurdling over the speed limits set in a false history Starved as I approach the speed of light I’m chasing time lost in the gunshot polaroid When the world filled my barefoot soles with fear Now the winds carry me above the stratosphere I’ve been patient in this subterranean river Seeking the glow of new talent in spite of the deceiver Flowing unnoticed slow as a snail in the speed museum In a photo finish for a split second atop the podium I’ve stretched a thousand light years into the future To torch with gold a new generation’s winning measure To set aside all doubt brought on by black stereotypes To ignite the passion deep within their phenotypes Your thunderbolt has forever turned the track Greene An insane bullet out of the blocks into the silver screen Frankie, if I could open your heart there would be silver Enough for the golden performances you would always deliver Janis Thompson’s Olympic Mania - Poetry Contest 30.08.2016