It basically makes some comparisons with the game that he loves.


The Love for the Game



She moves with amazing grace. She's my drug; the only thing now that occupies my mind. The world stops moving while she's in motion. I don't feel the air blowing on my bruised body, the grief in my useless life, the hate and neglect from my enemies. The only thing I feel is the adrenaline flowing through me, the rage pushing out, the passion in both our eyes. This ball can take anything, my one and only love. It doesn't hurt me, but it endures my abuse. She's patient with me and understands my f**ked up mind. Our past is long and confusing. But she has always been there for me. she has endured my aggression, my ignorance, my mistreatment, always taking me back. I ask her why? Why waste your time with someone like me. I hurt you in every way, no purpose in this f**kin life, alive only for God's sadistic humor. But she comforts me, gives me confidence, gives me hope, gives me a reason to live another day. I'm in an altered state of mind when I'm with her. I see every movement, hear every sound, ready to pounce on anyone who dares harm my love. The screaming demons around me are mere visions for I can't hear their vulgarities. It's just me and her, the way it should be. Then she stops moving. I sober up and come back to reality. The demons around me turn back into the smiling greeting two-faced angels. I feel the air; its cold and harsh. I look at my love and she turns back into an "it". I put it up back in the little corner near my trash can, no significance. I get my s**t and head back into my box, closed and empty, not an abnormal sight. Another 23 hours til I get my fix. Another 23 hours til I can live again. Another 23 hours til we're together again.




Words by Barry
Read 686 times
Written on 2007-01-20 at 07:53

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