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Apr 2013
I will always remember my one true love,
The catch, the glide, the finish,
The way it seemed to take the hurt,
And make it all diminish,
But how could a love so pure,
Be the purest form of pain,
How was I ever to endure,
Living a life in endless vain,
For I pushed through every needle stitch,
Every procedure, broken bone and ailment,
I was rowing's little stupid *****,
I was the team's heaven sent,
I let every bone tear from the muscle,
Every tendon rip in half,
Through sprains and blood I hustled,
I kept pulling on that oar's dead shaft,
Until the pain went through my body,
The pressure to much for my canal,
I was all an athlete truly can embody,
I kept in it, kept up my morale,
But this moment here when I am scrutinized,
By the person I have been placed to serve,
Is when this dedication finally dies,
So no, its not the bulging discs inside;
It's this moment that really hit a nerve.
Western Wildflower
Written by
Western Wildflower  San Diego
(San Diego)   
841
   Louise
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