i hate tuesdays, <br />it's games day, <br />especially in the winter, <br />legs so hard and frozen, <br />they could easily splinter. <br /> <br />worse of all is rugby, <br />i always end up on the team of wimps, <br />buldozed and battered, <br />caked in mud, <br />feeling shattered. <br /> <br />i dread the second the ball fall into my hands, <br />run <br /> run <br />but before i ahve begun, <br />ten ton of terostorone, <br />comes crashing home, <br />and whats left of me, <br />is embedded in the grass. <br /> <br />then there is cricket, <br />long hot sweaty afternoons, <br />spent waiting for something to happen, <br />wanting that little red ball, <br />to fall nicely into my grasp, <br />only it always ends up mockingly on the grass. <br /> <br />and then theres circiut training, <br />33 boys running around an empty field, <br />at the front are the fit, <br />at the back the fat, <br />ones bieng sick. <br />one long sweaty line, <br />all strving to beat each others time. <br /> <br />and if thats not bad enough, <br />just to show that your tough, <br />everyone is ordered into the shower, <br />the poor with no chest hair, <br />always fare the worst. <br />and it always, me it gets caught, <br />hiding away, <br />'but i have'nt brought my towel sir' <br />but he doesnt stir <br />'well your have to dress wet, <br />maybe next time you wont forget' <br /> <br />next time i will say i am allergic to water.<br /><br />Not Long Left<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/games-school/
