Whistles screech.
Shoes squeak.
Nets swish.
Crowds scream.
This is where I belong.
I’m engulfed in the game,
from tightening my laces,
to sprinting down the court,
to the the final buzzer.
This is my life.
I focus and visualize
all of my hard work.
Endless days of
sprints, drills, plays.
Grueling practices at
the crack of dawn.
Reviewing with my dad
to improve.
It all comes down to this.
As I step on the court,
my gaze draws to the ball
like a magnet.
Mine.
The referee throws it
up in the air.
I leap like the ball
is my last breath.
It all starts now.
Sprinting.
Screaming.
Cutting.
Driving.
Shooting.
Fighting for our lives.
My team works as one.
Without each other,
we fail.
Together, success.
Nothing else matters.
Muscles on fire
by the final quarter.
Breath, water, audacity:
all needed to live.
To win.
Sweat drips down my face
like salty tears,
symbolizing my toil.
Coach’s last words.
It’s time to end this.
Every ounce of effort,
Every pound of will,
Every ton of energy,
is left on the floor.
Nothing is held back.
My fire isn’t extinguished
until the final buzzer.
This is my goal.
This is my life.
To shoot,
To score,
To win.
It’s a lifestyle.
No comments:
Post a Comment