RUGBY

Standing up together, hands together we screamed "I love it, I love
it, I love it" with gleam as the dream came closer. We marched like
soldiers to the line, "forwards" and "backs" as our spirits made our
potentials unlimited.

From the opponent, The ball was kicked off and straight to the back ,
caught by a "back'', hands gripped tights , feet ran fast forward,
past the "forwards", until a tackle beat everything but her spirit,
she release the ball turning it over to her side as the ruck begin
and ends as we win the ball, "line �ups" made continue to save the
ball, "flankers" continues to run and almost there I look up to see
her sore as another of the other team threw her to the floor.

broken by a silent cry, I stand higher for her then for I as my
voice fades, sweat dripped into my eye, burning it equally as the
inner flames of winning tortured me and I knew what I had to do and I
knew I could "try"

I backed away to see clearly what was going on in the game and as I
thought of a plan, I saw a girl of the other team pick of the ball
and ran, as I wish to start over again to be there when demand
instead of how I vainly stand while the opponent wins again
water drew near as silence grew more as we glance to see them kick
and miss, we smile ready to run a mile as the game begin again,
ignoring the hurts of our body we march on.

Playing again I made it my day to make a way as I use my body to
bring them down, crossing the line, allowing the "scrum". Being in
the middle, I rose my foot as the ball rolled cowardly down the grass
frighten by cleats and future torture, I pointed my toe, touching the
ball as I prayed it'll go back, and back, to the "backs", "winning"
and won as I heard the words "ball out" we all filed out, positioning
right, maintaining our fight.

5 minutes left in the game as we told ourselves the lie, 2 more
second, must go on and we pulled on, communication was strong,
strategies that we brung from practices that seem long, we used,
continuity helped us win as we demanded the other team to overwork,
teaching them the word failure as we won.

Later alcohol praised the score, denying the sores as celebrated
without bore thinking evermore of stories that can be told. As food
was eaten, cups flips by games, our heart warm with the name, Rugby,
I LOVE IT, I LOVE IT, I LOVE IT.

BY ME