It's like football,
four yards down
and I took it all off,
balled it up to call your bluff
because you can't touch
or even tag the flag,
red clothing flailing
while we are failing
and finally falling
like dangerous dangling rags.

Now, I am on the line
cause these verses are mine.
I’m not praying but saying,
loving, and staying while
cheating hearts keep straying.

At the end of the field
and it all feels surreal,
stupid sports metaphor,
but who knows
what this crap is for.

I just walk off the grass,
let all those moments elapse,
then flash fast into the past,
sit down to clown,
and play with today,
such a great holiday
because it’s the best present.