the tortoise

He takes a step, slow and steady The hare is miles in front already He doesn’t panic he holds his pace The hare unaware of his fall from grace Life, like this race is a taradiddle The tortoise know it’s all just riddle The hare thinks speed is a necessity The tortoise knows the true recipe The end is coming, the tortoise knows The hare grows tired, weary, he slows Tentatively, catching up, he hopes for a tie So that maybe hare can eat humble pie But hare slows down to complete halt He wanted adoration, it’s not his fault A tincture of resignation in his eyes He knows he’ll never reach the prize Tortoise triumphant , but he doesn’t gloat He understands we’re in the same boat He shakes hares paw; says “good race!” He knows it didn’t matter who got first place