Tiny ChrisA Poem by laylaLittle boy Chris to short to play basketball.....then he grows up and shows every one at the courts he is very goodHe lives far away, in the coldest of states A cute little boy, with a special skilled trait Plays on the courts, with his 6 year old ball The boys wont play fair; they say he’s too small
He’s only a kid, they wont let him play These are the words, he hears every day So he sits far away, and watches the boys dunking old Spalding, he lives for the noise
Not the noise of the boys, but the swish of the net He knows that someday, that he’ll be the threat It isn’t his choice, that his Nikes stay clean That day will soon come, when Chris is a teen
6 years have gone by, and old Spalding’s gone At night he would play, straight through the dawn His talent and efforts, grew to a strength And over the years, he grew a foots length
His appearance is fierce, as he walks to the courts The guys all look up, as they shake in their shorts His Nikes are dirty, sweats seeps through his shirt the guys all don’t know, he once was a squirt
They ask him to play, and Chris nods with a yes As he looks at the player, loser wears dress First one to ten, says the guy with cornrows Chris looks and he laughs, says anything goes
They story ends here, I’m sure you can guess That’s hair braided man, sent home in a dress Cute tiny Chris, from cold corner in Maine Grows up to play ball, rewarded with fame © 2012 laylaReviews
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1 Review Added on August 29, 2012 Last Updated on August 29, 2012 Author
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