Poem: The Ball
William Brown III | On 16, Oct 2016
As a youth he was real.
The ball is in my heart,
It was placed there by my source.
It it wasn’t for this being,
My high spirits would not be the same.
He would tell me
While we were waiting, “someone’s working.”
This motive maneuvered through my brain constantly.
It was like a super power flowing through my veins,
And it would never cease.
This sofa-flopper was the inspiration of my life.
7 a.m. The blazing torch shined over the horizon,
But we were always on the court practicing
With that fiery grip.
That’s all you need to be
Day in and day out, all he did was practice with me.
Every time we finished he would say one key word: Determination.
Now everything has changed. This source has disappeared.
7 years of my life,
And he just vanished. No words left, no goodbye, just pain.
Now I have a new source.
The fiery grip has replaced my old source.
My love, passion, and effort will never change.
Till this day I still practice day through night.
Nothing can change that,
But my old
SOURCE is no longer.
It’s just me and the ball.