The Race, A poem to help pick you up when life pushes you down.

When I read this it gave me the chills in a good way. This poem is to help inspire you when you are feeling down and out. When that voice in your head says give up. This Poem is one we can all relate to. It is a story of a young boy falling on his face and getting up. The reason he gets up may help you get up when life gets you down and you want to give up. I was thinking of my readers when I heard this. Read and enjoy. The story has a happy ending. I so do love happy endings. My best, Stuart

Poem: The Race,  by D.H. Groberg

“Quit!” “Give up, you’re beaten!” they shout at me and plead,
“There’s just too much against you now, this time you can’t succeed.”
And as I started to hang my head in front of failure’s face,
My downward fall is broken by the memory of a race.
And hope refills my weakened will as I recall that scene.
For just the thought of that short race rejuvenates my being.
A children’s race, young boys, young men; now I remember well.
Excitement, sure, but also fear; it wasn’t hard to tell.
They all lined up so full of hope. Each thought to win the race
Or tie for first, if not that, at least take second place.
And fathers watched from off the side, each cheering for his son,
And each boy hoped to show his dad that he would be the one.
The whistle blew and off they sped, as if they were on fire
To win, to be the hero there, was each boy’s desire.
And one boy in particular, his dad was in the crowd,
Was running near the lead and thought, “My dad will be so proud.”
But as he speeded down the field, across the shallow dip,
The little boy who thought to win lost his step and slipped.
Trying hard to catch himself, his arm flew out to brace,
And ‘mid the laughter of the crowd, he fell flat on his face.
So, down he fell, and with him, hope. He couldn’t win it now.
Embarrassed, sad, he only wished he’d disappear somehow.
But, as he fell, his dad stood up and showed his anxious face,
Which to the boy so clearly said, “Get up and win the race!”
He quickly rose, no damage done, behind a bit, that’s all.
And ran with all his mind and might to make up for the fall.
So anxious to restore himself, to catch up and to win,
His mind went faster than his legs. He slipped and fell again.
He wished he had quit before with only one disgrace.
“I’m hopeless as a runner now, I shouldn’t try to race.”
But, in the laughing crowd he searched and found his father’s face.
That steady look that said again, “Get up and win the race!”
So, he jumped up to try again, ten yards behind the last;
“If I’m to gain those yards,” he thought, “I’ve got to run real fast!”
Exceeding everything he had, he regained eight or ten,
But trying so hard to catch the lead, he slipped and fell again.
Defeat! He lay there silently, a tear dropped from his eye.
“There’s no sense running more. Three strikes, I’m out…why try?”
The will to rise had disappeared, all hope had fled away.
So far behind, so error-prone, a loser all the way.
“I’ve lost, so what’s the use?” he thought, “I’ll live with my disgrace.”
But, then he thought about his dad, who soon he’d have to face.
“Get up,” an echo sounded low, “Get up and take your place.
You weren’t meant for failure here; get up and win the race.”
With borrowed will, “Get up,” it said, “You haven’t lost at all,
For winning is no more than this–to rise each time you fall.”
So up he rose to win once more. And with a new commit,
He resolved that win or lose, at least he wouldn’t quit.
So far behind the others now, the most he’d ever been.
Still, he gave it all he had, and ran as though to win.
Three times he fallen, stumbling, three times he rose again.
Too far behind to hope to win, he still ran to the end.
They cheered the winning runner, as he crossed the line, first place,
Head high and proud and happy; no falling, no disgrace.
But, when the fallen crossed the finish line, last place,
The crowd gave him the greater cheer for finishing the race.
And even though he came in last, with head bowed low, unproud,
You would have thought he won the race, to listen to the crowd.
And to his dad, he sadly said, “I didn’t do so well.”
“To me you won,” his father said, “You rose each time you fell.”
And now when things seem dark and hard and difficult to face,
The memory of that little boy helps me in my race.
For all of life is like that race, with ups and downs and all.
And all you have to do to win is rise each time you fall.
“Quit!” “Give up, you’re beaten!” They still shout in my face,
But another voice within me says, “Get up and win the race!”

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About stuartcline

I have been a therapist for over 15 years, and certified life coach for over 2. I am a Licensed Professional Clinical Counselor, Art Therapist, and a Licensed Substance Abuse Counselor. I believe the world is a better place when people are inspired and have hope. Positive people lead happy lives. My hope is that my blog stuartcline.com will offer those who read it an uplifting thought or a tool to give their life even more quality. I believe our best thinking has given us the results we now have and if we want another outcome then we need new information. I offer new information. I believe in you and the positive choices that you are making. Do what feels right and stop doing what does not. My hope is that our good deeds will ripple out into the world and leave it a little better then it was before. My goal is to make it easier for people to smile. Smiling matters. It leaves the world a little brighter and our hearts a little lighter. My hope is that smiling will be so common and contagious that we may all need to wear sunglasses, because the light created from the smiles is blinding. With kindness, Stuart
This entry was posted in Inspiration, Parables, Relationships. Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to The Race, A poem to help pick you up when life pushes you down.

  1. Love this. I passed it along to some friends who really appreciated the pep talk.

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