The ball, the hoop, the court, the shoes
The crowd cheering loudly, never any boos
The sound of shoes squeaking
The tick of the clock
The swish of the ball
The sound of the whistle that ends it all.
Fouls are called, travels and carries too
As time winds down the excitement grows
The crowd on their feet as the last shot goes
At the end of it all hands are shook
And the winners look back at the game they took.
This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.
DunkinonClouds
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