One summer day in nineteen sixty-four,
The eager spectators broke into a loud roar!
As the starter of the marathon pulls the trigger,
Thirty-eight athletes set to run ten thousand metres.
Hours passed,
The winners were announced—
Gold and silver medals and bronze
Adorn the winning Olympic icons.
Race over, the rest give up.
To leave the arena, people get up.
“Wait a sec, what’s this?” they ponder,
As they see a single athlete striving yonder.
Soon they boo, and then they jeer—
But none of this he seems to hear.
Nerve-wracking twenty-five laps
As he attempts to complete,
A sudden change in the crowd was noticed.
The crowd that jeered him realized—
The perseverance to which he was obliged.
Now they stood to applaud him,
Tears in their eyes brimmed.
When finally he finished, gasping for breath.
The entire arena stood up and clapped.
Ranathunge Karunananda was his name,
Not someone simply seeking endless fame.
When asked what drove him, he remarked:
“You must finish what you start.”
So the spirited loser made history—
Recorded in Japanese books,
But his island has forgotten of the unsung hero,
A story never written.
Z.S.A.Razack