Running full pelter
Hot blooded
Hot winded
Glistening wet
Shiny as new dollars
Worth every penny
Going the full distance
Bloodied breathing
I’d wager upon it
Coming full circle
Electric flashes upon grassy’d meadows
By perfectly trimmed and iron clad heavy weights
Not yet wearied
Onlookers stare screaming
Drunken on thrills
Staring down the barrel
As their glistening victors
Lay dead upon the finish line
Little Wren 