He knelt on me to the end.
In fear I won’t pretend.
He knew me on the sly
that if I got up he might die
when I was high and he was low.
We hated each other from get-go.
Now he’s paying for his sin.
From the start he was bound not to win.
A loser when he saw me.
Naturally stronger than he.
I might get up and crush him
Not in any school but a gym.
He hated my guts cuz I was easy.
And any strength I had made me sleazy.
All my moves were smooth and nice.
I didn’t need to be taught by mice
who cut off my tail with a carving knife
and later gave advice about life.
No I could see through him.
No matter what he did I’d win.
He couldn’t dribble to save his soul.
I’m too young and he is old.
Not in spirit cuz he has none.
Inferior with any ball.
I’ll steal from him. That’s all.
And now my family is rich.
The ugly state pulled a switch
to keep peace in the tribes.
Elevating all with bribes.
And maybe spoiling our families for the fun of it.
Oh my God. One more shot at this shit!
Predicament
Published in Poetry