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Rated: E · Poetry · Sports · #2243330
Deciding whether to play or not
Who would of thought on the brink of adventure, shooting balls, helter skelter

A clinic calls my name to see if there anything worth in my past redeeming

At 14 picking a racket up, a treasure from Papa to me, to show my skills.

I played in high school and college, I loved to hit shots and play doubles,

Mediocre at best. It was for love of the game. It was a time of hope and dreams,

Fast forward to today. At the age of sixty five retiring. Rarely ever playing.

I recall youthful times, breaking smaller head rackets, metal and wood.

As times progressed larger head rackets can't miss, playing with my kids

Most recently on time with a nephew, losing my balance and pride.

I will decide more about who I am by giving myself a chance to stroke gracefully

Memories of friends galore, meeting at the courts after church, it was fun.

Now in the twilight of life, few friends with cold blanket of snow to greet.

Will I like it or not? Time will tell. Is it waiting for Dr. Tennis to make me well

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