Tennis

In this game of tennis

I served

And you always returned it.

So we played for a while

Until it was your turn.

There was no serve.

I opened my eyes

And saw that you were just a wall,

Balls bouncing back to me

With each tentative serve.

You never wanted to be part of this game;

I put you there

And you flinched with each return.

But I am not surprised

After all, I can’t play sports.

I have no balls left.

So I put down my racket

And crawl back

to my hole in the mountains.


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Busybody
Poetry
Free Verse
writing Busybody
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