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Practice

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A warm afternoon on a diamond field a group does
their warm-up jog. Lead only by a young boy,
who runs like a deer leading his herd with pride.

That deer is myself, yet tall as a giraffe I’m mocked.
Chased, tricked, tripped and teased by my own
kind. Differences may appear on the outside,
yet we are the same on the inside.

Then there is you, Mr. Big Shot. You sit there
and watch me fall down. Surrounded by protectors
who are more like weak followers. You’re the one
everyone wants to be, except for me. I want to
be different, I just want to be, me.





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