observations lead to anger

an observer

is what my mother

calls me

two quarters left

ten points down

the same ball echos on

the floor so many times

i lost count

sweat stained jerseys

make them feel sticky

almost uncomfortable

his face is almost crimson

as he shouts, waving his arms

they all look alike

we don’t like alike

as in we

i mean me

who doesn’t look like them

work harder, do better,

be on time, when they give a foot

give a mile

but can’t you see

i’m so tired

tired of being the one

who has to adjust 

to those

already comfortable

when i’m not