The metallic throne

Gold is the colour I achieve when I race,

until one day came the biggest challenge I ever did face.

A lifetime of competing, causes a body to start depleting.

Now there is no more running, just pushing and turning,

My legs may have gave in, but the passion is still burning.

Blue is the colour I feel, until that day I heal.

Green is the colour of the hills that used to be my training ground,

now the hills are my enemy, and I cannot do anything but go around.

My metallic chair made of chrome, sometimes a prison and sometimes a throne.

People stare and whisper and watch my daily struggle,

their words and gazes I sometimes find hard to juggle.

Grey is the colour of the cloud, screaming above my head aloud.

White is the colour of the light at the end of the tunnel,

thus the words of hurt and insult feel ever so null.

A fire insides starts to ignite, and the throne I sit upon becomes a delight.

I am still a champion, a fighter just taking a little rest,

by years end I will arise and start competing with the best.

Red is the colour of the fire, burning up my desire.

Violet is the colour of my pride, my drive to reach the finish line,

everyday I struggle is a day I grow, a day closer to the time I begin to shine.

The chair that binds me will soon be a memory, just a temporary accessory.

My legs will soon heal and be the to respond,

and that's the day I'll take my life above and beyond.

Yellow is the colour of my happiness and hope, giving me the energy I need to cope.

Gold is the colour I will once again achieve,

everybody that doubted and laughed will once again believe.

right now you can laugh and stare, for I am not bound by a metallic chair.

You will still laugh and stare I am quite aware,

but it will be for all the right reasons I swear.

Orange is the colour of my success, just sit back and watch me progress.

Some may see a wheelchair and think I'm stuck at a dead end,

But with an undying passion and spirit to fight,

you will all be here to witness as I ascend.