You've heard the one about the tortoise and the hare?
But surely not from the perspective of the rabbit,
the loser who, most unequivocally, was there
and had the vaunted prize in sight but failed to grab it.
Much had been said about the moral of this tale.
Praise piled and heaped upon the slow and steady turtle,
though most acknowledge that the race was more a fail
than a defeat for him who couldn’t be more fertile.
But what if all of that turned out to be a lie?
That tortoise hadn’t even gotten past the middle,
while the old rabbit lapped the distance, watch him fly,
yet still declared a total loser, what a riddle?
The hidden meaning of this ageless allegory?
Defining winning is how one controls the story.
Author notes: Image from author prompt to gemini
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