I have watched the greatest get born, then close
their book with only a name to be remembered by.
All nations, all people of our children watched
in amazement, but always with a sigh.
Maybe there are pictures to show the greats,
yet they are all the same.
Many had their dreams for one chance to be on
top. To them it seemed always to be a game.
Inside, they were pushing their soul to the
limit. In all, the stars were their goal.
Come see they say, and many would, because
a champion would slow their life’s flow.
How they dazzled us with feats which
the human soul could do.
Anybody can be a great, yet not reaching the peak
or winning the big game didn’t make them feel blue.
Each one of us has his peak, his winning game,
you just have to look deep inside of who you are.
Let this be a poem for those who died without
knowing that in their souls, they were always the star.
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