On long summer days
and frigid winter nights
I fought for glory on hardwood and pavement
the kind that no-one really cares about
but thrives in the most axial part
of this youthful heart and tired soul.
My entire life has been fraught with
trying to help others achieve the
self-confidence and freewheeling joy
that comes from defeating ones contemporaries
in a game that truly means nothing
but with it fortunes are made
generations are defined as stellar
and nations bask in the limelight
of being the very best.
The orange sun rests in my hands
glowing with the memories of days past
and thrumming with the unbridled excitement
of what tomorrows darkness may entail.
So I lace on my throwback kicks
and thank god for this vibrant body
with which beautiful art can be made
poetry in motion
not unlike my strong left hand
holding this pilfered pen.
I was here
When it came out of your hand..
It going down.
Nothing but net.
KindredSpirit
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