From "shaking it off" to another great attempt, a poem about living a sports dream. |
My very real desire is the constant need to learn, To focus on the patience and the modesty to yearn. I can be pragmatic about beating my opponent If a win makes me better, one vital component. I tend toward relaxing, then my efforts are good, But my tendency toward comfort is misunderstood. I seem like a fool who’s in the wrong place – But in the end, it’s good, and there is no disgrace! I feel out of place for being so boring – People want to cheer, but eventually they’re snoring. My attempts are transgressions, a nightmarish dream, And I’m threatening to ruin my own self-esteem… Though people would like to compliment my tries, The result is what matters, no youthful disguise Can make life revolve around a simple attempt – Even though no court can hold me in contempt! The way that I see things, this game is my life, Though my future wife says it leads to much strife. But I’ll work out my future, because all that I need Is the ability to learn, and they’ve planted the seed… With the endless attempts and the modest gains, The grindings, galore, and the constant pains, The future is certain, but won’t I recall That the bigger I get, the harder I’ll fall? My life has a purpose and meaning all its own, Every time I’m playing, and when I’m in my zone, But the thoughts and desires I’ve learned to control Are part of this dream, a calm in my soul… |