One Look
As I stand on that muddy grass field,
The roar of the cheering crowds
Is all I seem to hear.
No specific voices; it's all just a blur.
As I stand on that muddy grass field,
The roar of the cheering crowds
Is all I seem to hear.
No specific voices; it's all just a blur.
This poem is quite amazing, and I am sure that a lot of people would be touched like the way I have. I have a friend who enjoys this poem because she plays football. It is very substantial to...
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It's Friday night,
I've got a game.
We play the Indians,
My best friend's team.
My feet stick the black rubber
Its like some kind of magnetic tape
Day after day, it pulls me back
For not only does my body demand it,...
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The outlook wasn't brilliant for the Mudville nine that day;
The score stood four to two, with but one inning more to play,
And then when Cooney died at first, and Barrows did the same,
A pall-like silence fell upon the patrons of the game.
The bull is in the gate
You lower yourself to rest on his back
He moos a threatening sound full of hate
You nod your out there's no turning back...
Thousand of thoughts, standing there finding a grip
Don't slow down, Plant high, Touch your feet to the sky!
Everything that was said over and over and over again
Do everything right, nothing wrong...
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This poem really touches my sad lonely heart. I wish one day I could feel the same as a dancer.
In a land of dreams
A little boy
With a stick of wood
His scrawny arms...