With My Back Turned
Every passing day, it's there. It pulls on my shirt collar. It tries to trip me. Such a pain it is to bear. At practice it is even there as well.
This object is the pain and sorrow that I bear with every waning day. During the school day I think of all that is wrong with my life and how much better it could be. I even have it bugging me after school hours.
In practice I feel singled out by my coach. She's always there to say how bad I just did. That I should flick my hand better when I hit. How I missed two serves at our last game. And how I should have been watching the ball. I should have watched it or I wouldn't have been hit on the head. I would have watched it if my back weren't turned, if I hadn't been putting another ball away. If I had only been watching my teammates practicing their serves I wouldn't have been hit in the face with that volleyball.
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