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Former Player
by
© wetzelbill


My sickness bothers me, though I persist in denying it.
I often sit here remembering who I was
Lulled by drink, cocaine solace, to ease my pain

Sometimes fathers point at me
Kids walk up and shake a hand
Which had thirty in the big game

The same hand still shakes
But now for other reasons
Bump, shot or stick does me fine

Not sure what happened
I recall a promising future
One that became my shame

Then shame went away
Ran away with my pride
While I ran into a gutter

Sickness I deny is too much
But I think I’m alright
I’ll make it out someday

Right now, I need another
To replace the rush of the ball
Glory doesn’t dry heave in garbage cans

But, of course, I do
When I’m sober and clean,
Anyway, I search for my fix

Sometimes I watch
As the young kids play
I laugh at them

And the bad haircuts
They all have, None
Are as good as I was (or could have been)

Someday I’ll play
Proving myself again
Hearing crowds scream

For now I accept
Spare change and pity
Like an eagle, I fly again
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