Sports no More
The night was cold,
And lonely.
Nothing was out,
Of its place,
This night.
It was a low,
Blow and no one,
Was in sprits,
Where did it,
Go wrong.
How could,
Have this gone,
For so long.
Why can’t we,
Feel the joy,
Anymore.
It’s painful knowing,
this and angriness,
To deal with.
How can any,
Live like this.
It was so close,
But become a,
Long shot.
The team was close,
To win.
No rain storm could,
Stop it.
Yet the foes had,
No problem,
With that.
Crashing each other,
Until finally our,
Team got the gist,
Of it and call it,
Quits.
We could have one,
And it live it,
Big.
No that wasn’t,
Going to happen.
Tears and rain,
Mix that night.
Knowing this game,
Was a win or,
Lose and we lost,
Hard.
That joy for,
Championships.
There could always,
Be next year.
No,
There won’t be.
Everyone wouldn’t,
Give a damn.
-Side Note-
8 openings left on the Thanksgiving poem, just need what you are less thankful for. Due date 11/27. PM me!
