Soon after the whistle blew,
When the race was over,
And my toes crossed the finish line,
The contest had reached its end.
When all the results were gathered,
The winner stood clearly before them
And the glory was his to claim.
Everyone longs to be a winner,
To taste the triumph
They believed I carried.
I can’t deny it
Everyone saw that I won.
Yet deep inside,
I lost like a battle.
How can a victor feel this way?
How can triumph turn to sorrow?
How can winning leave you blue?
Unfortunately… unfortunately,
Everyone saw that I won.
Dec 21, 2025
Dec 21, 2025 at 4:09 AM UTC
Soon after the whistle blew,
When the race was over,
And my toes crossed the finish line,
The contest had reached its end.
When all the results were gathered,
The winner stood clearly before them
And the glory was his to claim.
Everyone longs to be a winner,
To taste the triumph
They believed I carried.
I can’t deny it
Everyone saw that I won.
Yet deep inside,
I lost like a battle.
How can a victor feel this way?
How can triumph turn to sorrow?
How can winning leave you blue?
Unfortunately… unfortunately,
Everyone saw that I won.
Sometimes the society assume a person is happy while ***** is not
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