THE SCRIPTED GAME
The roar of the crowd, a deafening sound,
As helmets collide on hallowed ground.
But whispers arise, a cynical plea,
"Is victory real, or just make-believe?"
Like headlines that spin, a truth half-concealed,
Or storylines scripted, emotions revealed,
The gridiron's drama, some claim it's a show,
A pre-ordained dance, where the winners all know.
The quarterback's pass, a perfectly flighted arc,
Or a fumble recovered, leaving its mark.
Are these moments genuine, raw and untamed,
Or puppets on strings, in a carefully planned game?
The news it may bend, to an agenda's sway,
And wrestlers perform, their roles they portray.
But the sweat and the tears, the grueling long grind,
For athletes who strive, a different truth you'll find.
Though doubts may persist, and shadows remain,
The passion they bring, can't be purely feigned.
For the love of the game, in hearts burning bright,
Ignites the true spirit, and fuels the good fight.
Copyright ©
Laura Wooders
|