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Untitled
Look on my forearm and you will see,
a tattoo, a memory living within me.
We were feared by all at the state track meet,
Arrowhead—the ones to watch out for, the team to beat.
But in half a second, my handoff went awry and
left me lying on the lane staring up at the sky.
I can easily say I learned from that day,
but inked on my arm is a scar, there to stay.
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This is an entry for the Ink It poetry contest.