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My Basket
I am from the chains,
swinging back and forth,
waiting to crash.
I am from the metal pole,
strong and sturdy, always upright
with a metal clang.
I am from the metal lollipop
blocking putts,
crushing feelings to a pulp.
I am from the metal basket,
playing defense trying to block a shot,
but also waiting to welcome you in its arms.
I am from my disc,
wobbling through the air, spinning, turning, and falling,
stuck in the ground getting buried forever lost.
I am me,
the thrower, the controller, the orchestrator, the conductor,
always trying decide the path I will go,
through every twist and turn that is life.
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