Popsicle Race

I’m quite the magician though nobody knows
I walk on popsicle sticks lined up in a row
No teeter no tat I’ll never fall flat
I’m the best at this game called bubble gum splat
Everyone plays though they play it all wrong
Some jump much too fast and whizz through the course
They spring out like chickens chased by Peppy the horse
It’s fun with the wind blowing through your big hair
Rushing along too busy to care
When they pass up the others they snicker and boast
Until one slips on his own cinnamon toast
It always happens I tell you it’s only a matter of time
And so running fast is only as sweet as a lime
But then there’s the slow ones who crawl through the race
From stick to stick, not a sprinkle of sweat on their face
They stop too often to enjoy the flavored popsicle sticks
“There’s always tomorrow” they say with strawberry stained lips
They cause loads of traffic along CherryStick lane
One by one they creep by tracking chocolate fudge stains
Their nice I know but they too are terribly wrong
For dragging their feet will make this race incredibly long
So that leaves me, the only one playing this right
I don’t plunge over sticks and I don’t slither by
Lean in and I’ll whisper my secret to win
Don’t sprint, don’t shuffle, just walk and enjoy the sunshine on your skin.