Dec 2016
I walk past the old football field, empty, no gladiators, no cheering crowds.
PUSH THEM BACK, PUSH THEM BACK, PUSH THEM WAAAAY BACK!
Just echoes of the games once played. Just memories of those standing, watching the turmoil on the field of battle, young warriors in their armor girded for war.
Distant images of time long past. People I once knew, no longer remembering their names. November winds again blowing in my hair, what little I have left. I wonder what paths all those people took? I guess I’ll never know.
PUSH THEM BACK, PUSH THEM BACK, PUSH THEM WAAAAY BACK!
Just echoes of the games once played. Just memories of those standing, watching the turmoil on the field of battle, young warriors in their armor girded for war.
Distant images of time long past. People I once knew, no longer remembering their names. November winds again blowing in my hair, what little I have left. I wonder what paths all those people took? I guess I’ll never know.
