by ♥ Kari Hirshey ♥
Tuesday, October 01, 2002
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The game starts, as usual I am pumped,
I'm off with a start, and a spring in my step,
But I am small; I get dumped.
The ball at my feet; a kick I prep,
But again I get kicked to the ground,
I take quite a pound.
This is hell,
I don't know why I do it.
With pain I yell,
For in the stomach I just got hit.
"Well, can I not fight back?"
I think, as my ribs crack.
Then I remeber why I love this game so much,
I am good at that slide tackle,
A sliding pass of one touch,
I let out a cackle.
That girl went down hard,
She shouldda seen that behind my back I held a card.
A card that entitled me to bring on the hell,
That was given to me.
And with a yell,
That sounds much like a banshee,
I fly across this field;
It is mine, power I weild.
Power in the form of knowledge;
Maybe I can play this game through college...
This game, a game of taking and giving blows,
Your true heart it finally shows.
For in this game, you can never say die,
Kinda like the game of life.
Bruises and blood, streaming down my knee,
I feel so alive,
So some reason, this gives me such glee.
And now I strive,
To play from the soul,
Because in this game of hell, that is how you score a goal.