The boy who cried

I remember a time
when I was a boy
standing
crying
in a sunlit playground

Not because I was hurt
alone
or afraid
But because my friends were shouting
urging, encouraging,
willing me to take the winning shot
in a game I rarely won

I refused
kicked the ball away
as they shouted louder still
while my opponent lay
ankle twisted
crying tears of his own

So I stood
and I cried
Whilst my friends saw a chance
at sweet, uncommon victory
I saw only
unfair advantage
injustice
another in pain
So my friends
they yelled in my face
and my friends
they did not understand

Now
looking back
having studied life's lessons and
learnt them too well
now
I'd find a
pragmatic
solution, take the win
yet satisfy honour
but still
I wish
I wish
I wish I were that boy again
because I fear
he
was a better man
than
the one that he became

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