John Stetson Poet Epic

The Ones that Died at the Wall pt 1

Jose picks his way through the field, selecting what's come ripe
Though he's just arrived, he knows the feel, what makes each one's life
Has reached the point where, decisions will be made  
Precision is the key in knowing how to make the grade

Jorge has begun to bloom, back in Monterrey
Moved out of his sister's room, he's learning how to play
He's working through the field to field which place suits him best
With coaching he will soon begin to rise above the rest

He'll just need a few more years to learn to play the game
Where he will outshine his peers, and he'll become the name
People watch where Jose lives, and someone makes the call
As he works his way past sweat and tears and playing at the wall

'Strella counts the days each month, till Jose's order comes
He works his way north farm to farm as each new season comes
He picks the best fruit from the rest, looking for the plums
He knows that his decisions will support all his loved ones
He looks around and sees some others brought their sons

Estrella gets a call from Jose, he has heard the word
There's a tryout, balls will fly out, higher than the birds
But he's sure one day that Jorge, will be the chosen one

The scout looks through the listing of the names that he's been sent
Some he's met and some he knows already came and went
Estrella wears the dress she made when Jorge was a boy
She's hoping that the way he's playing leads to his employ

There all the stars are shining, with million dollar gold
Jorge's arms are strong enough for the dreams they'll have to hold
All the dreams that she and Jose had when they were young
They won't die like his fathers did, there beyond the wall
Paradise is waiting there, just beyond the wall

Beyond the wall 
Beyond the wall
The seed in the fable's reaching seats beyond the wall 
A seat at the table's waiting just beyond the wall

Jorge's uncle Omar made his name out in the field 
The leaves he's harvesting will yield a crop with great appeal 
He rose among the players used the weapons he would wield
Picking off his rivals one by one until he ruled the field

He always sends the best of what his many fields produce
North of the border where, some just can't refuse
Hit after hit, they just can't quit, they will need it all
He's happy to play ball with them, though some die on the wall

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