Not Long Left

Rookie (17.05.1981 / The Molten Core)

Games (School) - Poem by Not Long Left

i hate tuesdays,
it's games day,
especially in the winter,
legs so hard and frozen,
they could easily splinter.

worse of all is rugby,
i always end up on the team of wimps,
buldozed and battered,
caked in mud,
feeling shattered.

i dread the second the ball fall into my hands,
but before i ahve begun,
ten ton of terostorone,
comes crashing home,
and whats left of me,
is embedded in the grass.

then there is cricket,
long hot sweaty afternoons,
spent waiting for something to happen,
wanting that little red ball,
to fall nicely into my grasp,
only it always ends up mockingly on the grass.

and then theres circiut training,
33 boys running around an empty field,
at the front are the fit,
at the back the fat,
ones bieng sick.
one long sweaty line,
all strving to beat each others time.

and if thats not bad enough,
just to show that your tough,
everyone is ordered into the shower,
the poor with no chest hair,
always fare the worst.
and it always, me it gets caught,
hiding away,
'but i have'nt brought my towel sir'
but he doesnt stir
'well your have to dress wet,
maybe next time you wont forget'

next time i will say i am allergic to water.

Comments about Games (School) by Not Long Left

  • (11/5/2005 12:53:00 PM)

    Perhaps I should have said 'empathize'... (Report) Reply

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  • (11/5/2005 12:52:00 PM)

    I sympathize with you! Sincerely, David. (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Saturday, November 5, 2005

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