Playing for the game’s affection
working hard isn’t an option
but instead a pleasure.
bring the NFL to any strip
of grass long enough to run on.
all we needed was a ball.
It could have stayed like that.
But the older we got the less
That ball mattered.
The block was no longer a part
Of the game it had be come
A part of life.
Traded in the grass
For concrete escape routes.
The ball got sold or smoked away.
After all of that I still tried to play.
I never wanted to give it up.
The rest of them had no choice,
With every year that passed
One more stopped playing.
I made it the longest
All four years of highschool
May 15, 2014
May 15, 2014 at 9:42 PM UTC
Playing for the game’s affection
working hard isn’t an option
but instead a pleasure.
bring the NFL to any strip
of grass long enough to run on.
all we needed was a ball.
It could have stayed like that.
But the older we got the less
That ball mattered.
The block was no longer a part
Of the game it had be come
A part of life.
Traded in the grass
For concrete escape routes.
The ball got sold or smoked away.
After all of that I still tried to play.
I never wanted to give it up.
The rest of them had no choice,
With every year that passed
One more stopped playing.
I made it the longest
All four years of highschool
Request permission to use this poem