They are the only ones that see through me. I am just one of many who despise them. One falling star with ash in their brains, and light, blinding their eyes. One star that belongs there, but hasn’t made it. One coach there to deny me. From the stands I can see them, but I cringe in hatred.

Their power is weak. They send secrets and promises to parents and players. They put ice in my heart and the leave me feeling dreadful, with no place to go but the stands, where I have to watch the team I hate so much win a state championship without me. This is what they do.

When each person walks to the podium and finds their place on the stand, they all stand in joy, and prosper the moment of being on the championship team. Clap, clap, clap, hands of fans applaud in congratulations. I wince.

When despair is too deep to think, when hope is too grand to play, when pride falls, I play basketball. When the sky turns to black after hours of shooting outside, I keep my head high, knowing that I should be on that team and knowing nobody can stop me from pursuing my dreams. I see a shooting star, and think of me, knowing that that’s who I am and the only one’s who are falling are the one’s who deny me.