Sitting here in a room full of millions

Blending in all as one

No difference in who they are and what they do

Watching for the shot or play of the game

Some routing for our side and some for the other

Who’s to say who wins in the end?

The crowd is so tense waiting with such anticipation for what might be

The point center is the man of the hour and doing things oh so right

What about that forward who had the crowd going all night

Some tall

Some but a short tall

Those left out of the cheering crowd

For they never got their tickets in time

Shake their heads in disappointment as they missed the game of the year

Those in the crowd mixed in their mind some sane

Some not what does it matter anyway

The crowd is happy even though the locals

Lost

We pile out like a herd of wild cattle

All saying we’d do it again

The Game©

Copyright 1998 • 2017

By Felina Silver Robinson