Sunday Morning War

The thing that almost killed me

The first day
We arrive sharp
We are given our weapons of power
We are taught to use them
Through the pain and struggle
We practice until we are prepared
The weak are weeded away
Only the strong survive
Training ends
From clay to stone
We have become machines
Made to destroy
Dominate
Win
It is time to show what we have learned
We struggle and fight
Just as we’ve been trained
And yet as much as we try
Our victory has passed us by
We hang our heads in shame
We walk away
Back to training
Once again we practice and struggle
Fight and train
Until we master our domain
Of which we have chosen
We look back when our work is finished
All we can think is
What have we done?
Look at what these boys have become
From molded clay to chiseled stone
A pain that none can atone
To show no emotion
To fight their way though
All we can say is
This is what we do
We do not choose for them
They decide this for themselves
To take up this task
To strain, to fight
Until their final day

And they call it a game
This game of football