Is there any way that I could help you
win this little race?
The one that has you falling
off your once-demanding pace?
Slowly steal a glance
as it’s pummeling your face?
Shall I simply wince and brace
and watch you meet the grounds embrace?
Take it all in stride
Later down a swig to chase
The feeling of your feeble pride
Drifting into space?
Pop a lovely pill you’ve laced?
Slip away towards blissful grace?
Find some other high to chase?
You’re just another sinking number
in the growing human race
