Choice
10, 9, 8…
in my hands lie the team’s fate.
suffocated by my ceaseless panting
and a responsibility I’m not capable of handling.
7 seconds left on the clock,
I’m hindered by shock.
too many commands,
too many hopes in the stands.
A sudden rush of adrenaline
impeded me to imagine
the right move against our rival
that will seek approval.
pass? shoot? dribble?
every move is possible
of devastating the team’s dream
of dimming the team’s gleam.
Similar to the reality we have to upstand,
sometimes we win and
sometimes we lose,
we don’t get to choose.
Sometimes a little luck is needed,
and setbacks cannot be evaded.
Not everyone we can please,
but never let it lose your ease.
Wanderlust's Escapade 