Six foot tall the young man stood, And was built like a wall of stone, And when he stood between the posts Compared he could be to none.
His shout was loud, his throws were long, His grip was firm and his kicks were strong. To any length on height he’d leap In a bid for his clean sheet to keep.
But times would come when he’d screw up, Like missing the ball or letting it drop. And his team would look at him with disdain, Adding inner hurt to his physical pain.
So he would turn, pick the ball from the net, And try to learn from mistakes that he’d never forget. This process of learning was a constant thing, Adding more hope to his ‘ridiculous’ dream.
Harder he’d try, week after week, To ignore all the put-downs and instead try to think; “What can I learn from this? What’s going wrong?” His burning ambition was still there, still strong. The put-downs persisted but had less effect, And gradually the team showed their boy some respect. Despite disappointment and losing, his head remained lifted, A…
I will not stand idly by when One rule applies to that there
boy, The hypocrite son of a hypocrite man, Whatever he wants to
do he can. I will not agree To fraudulent policy Of making
an example of One willing to stand straight up And voice
opinion and be heard, when Others act like sheep in herds or Flock
together like mute birds, Afraid to turn thoughts into words. They
will pay appropriate price, Having lost their strongest voice,
for Bowing down to this man’s boots and Being unwilling to
leave the group To stand up for a friend in need (They needed
me, these friends indeed) And accepting un-equal punishment, One
boy’s truths equal this man’s dissent. Do not dare your
feelings vent, Just stand idly by when The next one of you gets
the door And welcome 1984.