Second Best

There's nothing like the gold,
the glory of finishing first.
You drink the streams of victory,
as I suffer through losing thirst.

You walk on this road proudly,
the path of unending fame.
Your success is a lovely hill,
mine is a mountain of shame.

Every woman that you pass,
kneels down at your very feet.
The world is your red carpet,
as I walk this empty street.

The nights are always fading,
into blackness I am dismissed.
You light up darkened places,
and I am tossed into the mist.

No one will shoot you down,
that shield of yours stays true.
While I must dodge the bullets,
with the gun barrel as my view.

Yet the quality you do show,
the one that touches my heart.
Even though I want you gone,
our worlds shall never part.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2010

Poem

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