Below is the poem entitled Hills are not for Kings which was written by poet
marszalowicz. Please feel free to comment on this poem. However, please remember, PoetrySoup is a place of encouragement and growth.
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Feelings of resentment, I spurred my immaturity, my old man, bestowed his lousy gift of unwanted knowledge.
taking from him lessons, ungratefully, these lessons were for life and patience, I saw as he worked the entire world.
From basketball grounds, to going to my bedroom, home court advantages all his, sitting on his throne
Angers swelling high
Embarrassment had I
My day would come soon
Early years had I that passed, enduring all those moments, feelings disappointments almost every day, I grew numb
I, believing for long stints, life does not care for happiness such as mine, and I gazing at the man of the hour every hour
like royalty, taking my defeats less like a man, more like a subject would he ever pass the scepter?
Spending those moments
I appreciated more
In the coming years
I watched five o'clock shadows, form on the court, his face, our memories, I felt new kinds of sadness to win
Getting closer to his score, understanding his game more each day, I panicking, so used to being the loser
thought those days would never end, a mentality to fail once more might revive our spirits
Changing of the guard had come
All so bitter sweet