Forward

The race to life's finishing line is set
The moment we are born into this world.
We all have different speeds, but I forget
That I'm almost there, the bleak flag unfurled.
Did I count enough snowflakes on my hand
And wonder if I'll be remembered the way
I'll still see their patterns once they disband?
Did I laugh enough so that everyday
My voice could still be heard past the thick wall
I've built to split our separate courses?
As you view me from the sidelines and call
Me to turn back, the life machine forces
Me to keep moving, too tired from within.
I win the race I didn't want to win.

A/N: I wrote this sonnet for a poetry class, and although my professor didn't seem too fond of it, it's still special to me because of how much I love 1 Liter. This has to be one of the most difficult poems I've written because it is in perfect iambic pentameter, which is extremely difficult accomplish given that you have to worry about the rhymes too. Hopefully, this turned out okay. Please let me know your thoughts/opinions through a review. Thanks for reaing!