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Basketball poem


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I lay in bed,

And say my prayers,
First comes my family,
Then my thoughts of basketball,

My mind is twisted,
Because I want to be the best,
I don’t know what to do,
Then I ask my basketball,

He tells me something unheard of,
So we talk, about life,
He asks me what’s my A, B, & C plan?
So my response is clearly my basketball,

When I was younger I told my mom,
That I will be the best son to be,
So I practice every single day trying
to keep my word,
With the help of my basketball

Some people end stories,
Using the word “in conclusion,”
But my story will end,
With the lovely game of basketball.

There’s beating and bouncing,
All over the dreadful court,
Your eyes are sweating and bleeding,
While the crowd cheering you on.

Sometimes they yell,
And their lungs burst,
You can’t lose focus,
The games on the line.

You go for the shot,
But shoots without your proud,
You lost your dignity,
Even your triumph.

Your dad’s replies get in the game,
All that does is make you play like garbage,
So you drive out of control,
You throw up a shot and ahhhhh!!!!

The games over,



You’re down on your 2 shoulders,
You fall so nothing can help you,
Except your basketball.



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