Haters

Handball,

It's my passion, it really is

And I hate it when people hate on it

They say things like is it even a sport?

Why do you play? Doesn't it hurt?

And I just hate it when they say, handball isn't for me

 

Some people call handball a game

But it is a sport, and if you don't believe so, then tell me

What defines a sport when a workout ain’t enough?

 

People often ask me, does it hurt?

I tell them no,

In the beginning it did

But as I played more and more

Giving this pain no care

It became a barrier I bested, that I overcame

 

Many Americans say handball's for beaners

So what I don’t understand is why this sport is called American

I would expect them to take ownership, has it got something to do with dignity?

It confuses me, as some still claim to have this "manifest destiny"

 

And so it seems handball is like chop suey

Made by a country, exclusively for another

Yet people claim racism is no longer an intimidation

But it still affects people's jobs, wealth and education

 

Girls say handball's for men

And yet they still claim sexism is dead

When they allow their gender to decide for them

 

It seems that people who can’t play are the ones that criticize

They have nothing better to do so they judge things they don’t like

And the fact that is has a predominant race is inconsequential

As us “Beaners” decided to play...just ‘cause

Handball is criticized for being uncommon

Just as Mexicans, Blacks and Asians have been throughout history

 

And it seems the harder you try to stop them, the harder haters hit

But why do they hate?

It’s my guess they don’t have the balls to play.

Poetry Slam: 
This poem is about: 
Me
My family
My community
My country
Our world

Comments

Grant-Grey Porter Hawk Guda

Powerful expression. Always let poetry fill your life. 

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