Cross Country Poem
Chasing the sun,
Running and running till the cross country is done.
O ver the hill and around the mud,
Still running fast until you hear a thud.
Someone fell over and you decide to help him up,
Chose your decision, now you not in the top. (top 3)
One more sprint, and then you fall down,
Until you hit the cold, hard ground.
Now you’re past the finish line,
The faded memories from over time.
Resting, panting and catching your breath,
Your last year of cross country is probably the best.
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