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by Norman
Rated: E · Poetry · Sports · #2247044
I'm not the type to just give in
My body told me to lie down
And practice playing dead
I thought that I would rather play
Another game instead

I’m not the type to just give in
I’m not that kind of guy
When someone tells me, “That’s enough.”
I always question, “Why?”

I pulled myself up to my feet
And limped back to the line
If I could just stay vertical
I knew I would be fine

This corn hole game is killing me
There isn’t any doubt
But I’m not leaving ‘til I win
Or ‘til they count me out

This kid I’m going up against
Has shown no weakness yet
I’ll have to put the pressure on
And double up my bet

Well, that was a mistake by me
This kid has wiped me out
I feel like I went fifteen rounds
And lost the title bout

But he is only ten years old
How did he get so good?
Or maybe I am just that bad
And I misunderstood

I bragged I was the corn hole king
The best that you could find
And I still thought I had the touch
When did it all unwind?

That crown I raised so long ago
And had so proudly worn
Now bears the dents and battle scars
Of ridicule and scorn

And so I'll step down in defeat
Accept this fatal blow
My battered body is done in
I’ve made my final throw

Wait! What is that they’re playing there?
Badminton is my game!
Yeah, I was once the king there too
It is my claim to fame

If I could just crawl over there
I’d show them what I’ve got
But I am not the man I was
A champion I’m not

I guess those days are over now
Forget what I just said
I think that I’ll lie down right here
Pretend that I am dead

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