Change Of Direction
¶ 1
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As I carry the ball forward
I survey all ahead of me – options to the left and to the right
All angles of opportunity…
Or, I consider the direct approach
Like a dagger to the heart
A full frontal assault on the target – a goal to decimate the opposition!
¶ 2
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And behind me?
I leave behind the beleaguered
The dispossessed
The unbelievers
The doubters
The shouters – those wanting to belittle me, to disrupt me
To unhinge me, to frighten me, to put me down
Those who try to disparage, to hurt, to blurt…
Body shaming slurs / “retard” / “snowflake” / “clown”
Or worse still
Picking out what makes me different
And using it as a barb, to obstruct, or stop me in my tracks
¶ 3 Leave a comment on verse 3 0 But all it does is urge me on
¶ 4
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I’m conscious we’re in a bubble
Wrapped in concrete and steel
But conscious too, that societal ills
Have seeped into our playscape
¶ 5
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Is all this vitriol meant?
Or is it a dint of devilment, a tool to disturb and blunt, the sharpness I bring
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