Beasts of the Fall

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Memoir  |  House: Booksie Classic
It's a poem about my personal experiences and the deepness that intertwines within it pertaining to football

Submitted: July 19, 2012

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Submitted: July 19, 2012



I’ll start from the beginning of it all

the way I see it, it starts in the fall

from the day I had seen my first girdle

I learned life is a string of hurdles

I suit up and I now daringly fight

I give my all in this perilous plight

every day the sun beats on my skin

and so slowly grows my fight for the win

I didn’t get much playing time that year

but I didn’t have anything to fear

the actual game was about to begin…

I had to start with a positive spin

the smell of vinegar courses through my veins

as the smell of fall now jars my brain

I tear through the feeble like cellophane

my cerebral cortex feeding off pain

then soon enough the battle was in school

this year I wasn’t gonna be a fool,

didn’t really know who I was before

but existence was knocking on the door

I took the field like an angry Viking

acid in my blood, my heart is spiking

the games are near and the goal is now clear

kill or be killed and do it without fear

wandering halls without a place to go

we’re like cattle, only the bells we know

I found my place with familiar faces

I didn’t care about other places

sweat in my eyes and pain in my very skin

to this feeling, I have not grown akin

I hit and I missed, my face in the dust

for the one win I’m growing a new lust

my year went well, I met some great new friends

it was hard, but I made it to the end

I took my shit, but at least I was me

but I asked, what else is there to be?

beating the younger seems senseless to me

I am the best that there could ever be

the field doesn’t scare me. I can beat them

this is no dare. I’m a bull with no pen

like nails driving through cement it hit me

I am playing with them unready

for the beasts of ball that were trained to kill

they were named John Bailey and big J-Mill

fought into the night and into the day

all I really wanted to do was play

for the sport I now let myself bleed

I will not give up was my only creed

cold wind stealing away my very soul

my heart being made slowly into coal

at once my dreams whisper from consciousness

I just stand and watch at their heartlessness

football is so much more than just a sport

It’s an ugly wife that you have to court

It’s not a religion but there are gods

They’re always watching once you touch the sod

remembering this, I battle onward

every tear traveling seaward

into the grinder I now throw myself

without the grinder I would have no self

my time may be short but I make it last

from genuine thought I must now fast

I must make a point to kill all that pass

but now my efforts just seem like hot gas

The season just seemed to end in a flash

I realized that it was a mad dash

I couldn’t waste a single moment ever

Every day just seemed like forever

My muscles ache but my body is dead

My veins will now no longer bleed red

I am not a body but a machine

All I know is the bench squat and clean

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