Watchin Ball

14 Sep

I sit in front of my moderately sized TV,

Staring at the intricate motions

Of the football players in presnap.

“They are going to run the ball.”

Id say, deciphering the formation,

The motions,

The quarterback’s demeanor.

Then they ran the ball,

And people would stare at me,

As if I had told them the end of a book they were reading.

One team scores,

The wrong team in my opinion,

And the world must be falling.

“Wow, we are going to lose”

I’d say; expressing the anxiety

The gut-wrenching feeling

Of caring far too much.

Again stares befall me

And I knew the words behind them,

“They are still up two scores…”

I knew they wanted to say.

After the game,

I was not happy.

“They won!”

They would scream at me.

But I thought you would understand.

The defense was bad,

You’d see it, I would think.

But you gave me the same response

The one I should expect but don’t

“It was only the first game, we’ll see…”

Luckily this was a textual response

Sparing me from your tone.

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Posted by on September 14, 2011 in Poetry


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