There is Cake at the End

Clap Clap Clap. 

A well done race.

Last place? 

Good Pace.

Turtle races win the accident prone. 

Just jog. 

Light trod.

Old bod. 

Run hot.

After all

the overall

is to move.

Still staying

Praying

muscle's stones

creaked bones,

dead If I ever saw one.

Well done.

Last place?

Good pace.

Race won. 

Cha cha is all in the feet.

Dance a party's worth all alone.

There you are

bright star,

shining solitude. 

Maybe not a great,

but a dancing dancer. 

There it is. 

You found it. 

Nice job.

Just head bob

and everyone will sing along. 

If they won't

Don't fret

bets all are in 

or all alone.

Shone the Shiner

and all will be tea

and cookies

and a back break of work

of pain

of falling 

and cake.

And the cake is good.