poetry critical

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walker jr. high

malicious the coach
his years lived out
wouldn't let me play,
i piled in
at the last second
in the jumbled mess,
from his point of view
he saw it with his clip board,
mr. malice and his favorite
big boys set me up
then got me hurt
for my young mistake,
i felt so damned ashamed
at that practice,
i had come up short
he cut me out
going off the field
i lost my taste for school
organized sports,
in my hand loosely
were shoes,helmet,
back to the gym room,
Mike Hendershot 2009

8 Mar 09

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son of a bitch. /expression

the end of the poem is usually the poignant thing, but thirteen is more of a setting, maybe fiddle it?
 — technomancer

thank you for your editing skills, it was very helpful here.
 — ambiguos

the flow from lines 1 to 2 doesn't make sense, it disturbs the rhythm.
 — jerotich

techno helped me with the edit as you may have seen, thanks tecno, i just didn't fiddle well enough, i have removed the line per your observation... thank you good sir... the deal about the thirteen year old boy was real in my life, i did feel alone and others things such as no one there to balance out the shame ... having expert critical feed back from experts is a honor thank you also.
 — ambiguos