Special Olympics

		SPECIAL OLYMPICS

A birthmark on the visage of some disadvantaged kids,
(A matter over which they had no say)
Leaves some of them with burdens which remand them to a world
In which the so called "normal" children do not play.

In most it is the body, not the spirit, which is flawed,
And the will to be a winner lingers strong.
So a venue was established where such children could compete,
In a setting where they'd know that they belong.

In one such competition, lane numbers were assigned,
For a race around the track to win a prize.
The starter shot his pistol, and the race was underway.
Six stalwarts with a dream to realize!

Each youngster vying gamely to attain the front and lead,
Within each heart the longing to do well,
When fate stepped in and tripped one lad. Misfortune was his lot
His feet became entangled, and he fell.

As if on cue, all other racers gathered to his aid.
To be assured he'd suffered no real harm.
To view such heartfelt empathy from those within this bond,
Leaves one with noble feelings, strong and warm!

Good will ran through the multitude, assembled for this meet,
As though upon a banner high unfurled.
You ask: "Who was the winner then?  Who finally won the race?"
The answer is, of course, THE ENTIRE WORLD!

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