My nose is bloody, my knuckles, too, <br />And my jersey's covered in mud. <br />I don't know who I thought I was kidding, <br />Trying to be some romantic stud. <br /> <br />Curse these stinking pads, <br />Get this helmet off my head. <br />My back feels like I'm eighty years old, <br />My feet feel made of lead. <br /> <br />She popped the ball out from my arms, <br />I never had a chance. <br />Sprawled on the ground I watched her run; <br />Chalk six up for Failed Romance. <br /> <br />I'm sick of playing this stupid game, <br />At least while she's still playing it. <br />This had to happen sooner or later, <br />There's no point in delaying it. <br /> <br />So substitute some other fool, <br />Go ahead, coach, call me in. <br />Maybe someday soon I'll hit the field, <br />But for now I'm getting benched again.<br /><br />Aidan Clevinger<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/benchwarmer-getting-benched-again/
