I'm not sure when,
But at some point,
Life turned into a race.
As others fight,
to beat the rest,
I keep a slow and steady pace.

Everyone's screaming,
So others can know,
What place they are in.
I stride in silence,
As others pass by,
And watch them take the win.

Those ever in first,
Only see themselves,
And how they appear.
Their actions are,
Guided by,
The crowds roaring cheers.

Last place allows me,
To step back,
And see more than myself.
By losing the race,
I win more,
Than a trophy on my shelf.