The race loads and the countdown ticks down, Fingers on the home row, eyes on the crown, Fingers are tapping, you start off strong, Words fly by, you zoom along, You type confidently, free of fears, Until the word ubiquitously appears, Your fingers which had felt so light, Suddenly become clumsy and tight, You pound your keyboard in growing despair, I'm not giving up, you boldly declare, You plow through, trampling words like a tank,

View more segments for this text