the competition starts as you're born its championship's not foresworn, the gun is fired on very first morn the finish-line reached as others mourn
on the way you'll find much to nettle there to prove your grit 'n mettle if moral compass's in fine fettle you'll emerge stronger, as quenched metal
if you fall on the way, help is at hand, that too is innate, divinely planned, it's human nature, you'll understand, just keep on, maintain your stand
as best can be, that's all that's required, try not to look if you're being admired, do as your soul is heavenly inspired, until you're tired, all strength retired
then soul ascends with all it's acquired, the bruises of life, as medals, attired, and as the spirit is gently expired, G-d whispers, 'yes, it's this I desired'.