The Better One

By Vedant Dhanjal

As the evening approaches

And the arms show seven,

I step out

To reach the five hundred meter

Long park, whose one round

Equals a kilometer;

Where a man,

Possibly older than me,

Runs faster, longer

And better than me,

Even though starting

Before me and stopping

After me; which makes me

Admire him; which pushes me

To be like him,

To get better than him,

To beat him,

At least in the five rounds I do

In five and twenty minutes,

And which increase

After each third day;

Where we both go

Neck to neck

In first three rounds,

With him running in

Opposite direction to me;

After which

He starts surpassing me,

Or perhaps I start

To lag behind,

More and more

As the fifth one is reached,

Where I pour all my strength

In a last burst

Hoping to succeed him,

Only in vain,

As his constant speed technique

Beats my slow and fast strategy,

And I find myself

Again losing at last.

By Vedant Dhanjal