I used to be the shadow on a bowling ball
Zoned in on any pin standing tall
The sight of humans well arranged
Left my mind and soul estranged
I much preferred the company
Of litter runt and orphaned bee
We knew then as they know now
The game is rigged if you don’t ask how
Two lines were formed a runner sent
To break the grip of the innocent
Those who failed were thus embraced
As lessons go, a total waste
Evening drivel rover red
The quarterback lives in my head
Calls every play in every loss
Until I learn who not to cross
Yes, there is a secret in a hole
That story’s mine, but oh so old
Childhood trauma, childhood shame
Finish the poem but ever the pain
The Hour is Coming, and Now Is 