Passed By

I was running down the street,

Careful with the steps of my feet.

When there I saw on my six,

A car was coming very quick.

The car was red, beautiful and sleek,

Compared to it I was weak.

Constantly over my shoulder I look,

To see the rout that it took,

But it easily passed me by.

Faster I ran to try and deny,

The fact that I was left behind.

Harder I pushed beyond the grind,

And farther ahead of me it went.

I ran until my legs were spent.

I busted my tail until no more I could,

But keep on going? I should, I should?

What is the best I could top?

As I thought,

The car stopped...

I've been passed before by my dreams. I thought I could never catch them until I gave up and when the dream came to a pause I was too far behind to catch up and grab a hold of it. Have you were been in this situation? Or did you grab it with both hands and tenaciously grasp with all your might?