Joyce Johnson Poet Rhyme

The Game

My heart is beating very fast.
Will I be she who's chosen last?
I hear my name and join the three
Who have been favored over me.

I watch those standing yet in line,
And see their fear as strong as mine.
Their fate unknown, they mutely stand
And pray to join our little band.

At last one girl stands there alone.
Her face is flushed, her chances blown.
As telling tears she strives to hide
I know full well she would have died

Rather than to be abandoned there
To bear the scorn and pitying stare.
I know the shame, I've filled her shoes,
The girl that neither side would choose.

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Simone Segal November 27, 2009 at 2:39 PM Great poem, well written! love Simone

Brian Strand August 10, 2009 at 8:22 AM Ah so much truth in this one Joyce.Thank you for your welcome comments today l.Rgds Brian

Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen August 8, 2009 at 6:43 AM Oh yes! Pain is there and strong fear in the waiting. There is a solution. And a PE teacher in Jacksonville, Florida found it. She counts the students. Odds on one team, evens on the other. No one is hurt. And it give more time to actual playing. Great write here, Joyce. Lovingly, Dane

Carrie Richards August 7, 2009 at 8:26 AM This takes me back to the terrible times as a school girl.....I was small for my age, and quite often had these feelings when we were choosing sides....well written!

Carol Sunshine Brown August 7, 2009 at 7:42 AM Another day we are blessed to be here reading and writing poetry. Thank you for sharing your wonderful poetry today Joyce. Love, Carol

Jessica Arteaga August 6, 2009 at 9:10 PM this is really great but I wonder what this is about i read it twice and for some reason I thought of games when played in teams I always hated being picked last cause i thought no one liked me, but feel is more important than that, very good and interesting and intriguing poem.