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My Rival's Dance
May 30, 2011
The look in his eyes
Could make anyone angry;
But I kept cool like ice:
Such a task was not easy.
We clashed heads until
The ice in my veins melted;
My mom was worried
It’d turn into something where I’d get pelted.
The hand that held my jersey
Was struck down again and again;
Every time he did this
All I wanted for him was pain.
He got into my head
With tactics driven by hate,
He walked off the court with a win
And I will never forget that game.
© Seita O., Louisville, KY
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