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Created on: September 12, 2009
I won't write about Football or Cricket,
Or any other sports name,
I will write about life
The worlds really big game.
For most of the time we are amateurs training
Preparing to play
And on the day
Find its raining.
So we sit, and we sit,
And we wait, and we wait.
Until one day we find,
That to play it's too late.
"What do you mean it's to late?
I never began!"
But you did, you just sat and just watched,
While others ran.
So the moral of this, I tell you my friend,
Is to play on through pain
Because in life we don't get
A delay due to rain.
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Poetry: The big game
by Yulia Blower
I won't write about Football or Cricket,
Or any other sports name,
I will write about life
The worlds really big game.
Tension clings to every sinew
Dripping through sweat laden brows,
As hands turn to grip fists
Firmly at the players sides.
by Carol Gioia
Watching the first game
of the season is a treat.
Getting everything ready,
an incredible feat
Invite buddies and families
by Scott Scherr
Second Half Victory
Down, forty-two to nothing at the half,
They flee a mess, to locker room refuge.
The sounds of disappointment,
by Richard Polk
Life's Game:
Pass the red ball around
Don't let it hit the ground
Hold it too long and you're bound
To break the rhyme and
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