he stood amongst the crowd
filled with aloofness on his face,
a discontented proud
much more with his grace.
he felt confidence which he'd never felt,
this champion who had won the race,
he proclaimed to the world,
“I am the best!”
he believed triumph can ne’er be measured
without taste of loss and self pity.
the champion always stood his ground
whenever he felt that he was right,
for he could outdo all of them,
all of them.
in the glory of the night.
thus the champion stood amongst them all
and fought all the obstacles there to hurdle,
hail champion you’re the greatest of them all
in you I found my self-worth long forgotten…
may you be the victor for all the time
the champion who made this prose and rhyme!