My skin tingles from the sheer thought of it -
The onslaught of the shadow that leaves a shadow;
My hair roots stand on tiptoe -
To think he might be closing in;
My ears perk up to absolute attention -
Listening for the deafening sound of the silent intruder;
My eyes blur to near blindness -
Seeing only the much I have not done;
Hearing only the words I wish I had said;
Clinging only to brittle straws of second chances;
Feeling only the hollow depth of time gone to waste.
This is it -
The one thing I dread the most;
To bestow eyes upon myself,
A docile bystander in the ultimate race,
My shoes barely dusty;
My track suit barely sweaty;
My muscles barely streched.
For then the shadow that leaves a shadow -
Would find that I was a shadow all along.
This poem is part of the January 31st 2011 Free Theme & Style Poetry Competition. You have until February 26th 2011 to read and vote for it. Please comment and indicate your opinion of the poem on a scale of 1 to 5.