back on the ground

and when it all died down
sweat dripping dry
and she took off her crown
sighed and wonder why

she pondered, “have they ever run so hard?”
“so hard that it hurt”
“and it hurt so bad that it’s good”
so good that she could not tell between tear and sweat

and if they have, “why?”, her mind wandered
are they like her, rich with thoughts that lingered
so deeply rooted that their feet need to fly
a fleeting escape to imaginary sky

but back on the ground she sat
air still missing from her chest
searching for a familiarity she once felt
the only job she seems to do best

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