Wednesday, February 14, 2018

Eighth Place ~ Wednesday, 14 February 2018

I was a runner once
and young before progress
set me back thirty years

Never as a freshman
in high school did I think
I'd fall a fetal ball

Sunset League Finals killed
my career as a star
between my legs the pain

Understandably great
torsion of the testis
after the race no tears

Language could never speak
the torment I suffered
curled up like a baby

To get kicked in the balls
lasts maybe ten minutes
this required surgery

Inside they shaved my crotch
gave me a sedative
dislodged my testicle

No one could understand
the trauma or explain
how rarely runners fall

Just after finishing
a race trace my disgrace
somewhere inside my brain

Undue stress the next year
made my running career
rife with disappointment

Running ever slower
third year I quit the team
yellow inside maybe

Yes I chose to play drums
instead of run distance
under oath perjury

If I make false statements
you'll throw the book at me
as judge to ethical

Notations in my verse
I write down memories
a jury of my peers

Decide if I'm worthy
my word as bond to read
after a hundred years

Each time I run I know
my tolerance for pain
is profound but ointment

Exacts revenge decades
lost with a scholarship
a full ride to college

Doesn't matter madness
destroyed me at twenty
my mind had lost its edge

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