Memory Poem

May 31, 2011
By Anonymous

walking into the loud, thunderous arena for the first time with hundreds of screaming fans cheering for their respective team. Over all of that I hear the sound of people selling hot peanuts which you can smell from outside. As i sit down with my box of hot buttery popcorn in one hand and cup of cold soda in the other hand, I hear the sound of the buzzer go off and the ball went into play.

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