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The Competition
as i wake up
i prepare for another round of
competition
about the day's strategies
the hour's demands
the dictates of the last seconds
i rub my eyes
wake up
carry my body
dragging it like
a heavy metal
i wash my face
check my attache case
taking in
all the papers
i see myself in the
mirror
dressed for the day
an attire
not fit for any embarrassment
polished shoes
oiled hair
well ironed pants
infallible polo shirt
i step out of the door
get inside my car
and now i am ready
to compete against
the previous self
that i had.
poem
by
Ric S. Bastasa
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