Poem -

Home Race

Tunnel vision
​​​​Black confronts me
The bricks rumble​​​​​
Hot air against my face
​​​​How I wish i was in that place
Hectic turns around me
Heavey breathing
Contorted lungs
Hills that never stop
The smell of tree smasches against me
T​​​​​​he faces blur 
In a crush of motion
Colors that cant be described
Sound of furious engineering 
Precise metal 
O how i wish i was there
 

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