The Second Runner

 
The second runner crosses the line,
not with glory, but with the weight of almost.
Breath burns the same,
legs ache with the same fire,
yet the world turns its gaze elsewhere.

Victory is a narrow door
and those who miss it are cast into shadows.
The second runner stands there,
not a hero, not a champion,
just a body that tried and fell short.

But what is a winner, if not a fleeting name?
And what is a loser, if not the same?
The second runner, the last, the forgotten
all are bound by the same thread:
to run, to strive, to fail, to fade.

In the end, the race consumes them all.