Race

By

Charlotte McCoy

So what if we don't win the race?

We are still somebody's ace

We all have our own style and grace

We can set a slower pace

And even stop to tie our lace.

Risk

By

Charlotte McCoy

Leaders rich

Beating fury sticks

For kicks

Fingers pointing, waving fists

Some might risk

Raising clenched fists

Above the mist

For this human race

We ponder…

Dropping drone bombs

Is wrong…

Then march along...