The ball of opportunity,
My fingertips catch.
Ball, floor,
Ball, floor.

Constant rhythm I feel inside,
Steady contact happens.
Ball, floor,
Ball, floor.

Quick squeaking shoes,
Piercing whistle blows.
Ball, floor,
Ball, floor.

Dodging, knocking,
Swerving and curving.
Ball, floor,
Ball, floor.

Hollow is the sound,
Of voices calling, cheering.
Ball, floor,?Ball, floor.

Bubble bee yellow, burnt orange,
Blurred is the unimportant sights.
Sharp is the chance;
Opportunity I see.

Ball, floor,
Ball, floor,
Ball, floor,
STOP.

Simple seconds become a frozen moment,
Counting down on the big clock.
While the rest of the world advances in perfect beat,
My mind; heart, slows down.

Just as quickly as I stop,
Reactions happen on the floor.
Look left, look right;
Options.

Pass:
Trust someone with what is mine,
Share what I could keep,
Help another gain their chance.

Shoot:
Courage to take what fate has offered me,
Strength to work at my dreams,
Discover what I could become.

Or move too slow:
Ignore what is there,
Push away what only wants to help me,
Waste a chance I’ve been given.

Or all three:
After all, the game we call life,
Owns plenty of time.
Yet the time we own is not guaranteed.

Either way,
The decision is mine.
To keep, share,
Or ignore.

There is always room,
For a certain failure.
Miss the shot, pass gets stolen:
Throw away what could’ve been amazing.

But I always still, take that chance.
After all, the game we call life,
Owns plenty of time,
To work, earn, gain.

To retrieve the ball once more,
To work twice as hard,
To accept with open arms,
To help another get their chance.

The time ticking all too quickly,
I launch the ball of opportunity into the air.
It spins, twirls, whirls,
Right out of the hoop.

Disappointment, yes.
But in those still seconds, I run,
Catch the ball of opportunity once more.
Try again.

Swoosh!
Proud, cheering, jumping spectators:
The sweet indications,
Of a successful basket.

The next time the ball comes my way,
I’m ready to help someone else:
Find their dreams,
Accept their given chance.

The ball of opportunity,
My fingertips pass.
Ball, floor,
Ball, floor.