#45 THE SIDELINE
#45 THE SIDELINE
(Americana)
Sitting on the sideline watching,
Half-filled stadium, hard bench, wanting more.
On the game field, but never in it,
Full uniform, no chance to score.
Past thick with wrong turns and fumbles,
All the victories I never earned.
Jobs, places, loves, paths not taken,
Right choice, right time never learned.
Spent a life stuck on close or almost,
Haunting the game, lonely watchful ghost.
Fear of failing kills even trying.
When the whistle blows, there's no more time,
Can't stay frozen here on the sideline.
Second half, fourth quarter, ninth inning,
Scoreboard shows we're late in the game.
All the "never got around to it"'s,
The "don't quite have"'s, me to blame.
Last week of law school I up and quit,
Love of my life married my brother.
Choked on joining my best friend's startup,
Endless "nearly"'s, one after another.
Spent a life fighting close or almost,
Learning the game, fed-up watchful ghost.
Thought wisdom was not even trying.
Whistle shrills, there's no more time,
Won't stay trapped here on the sideline.
Age fifty two, eyes now wide open,
"This can't be my life!" Simply spoken.
Said "I can do this." Fear unclenched.
Put on my helmet, rose from the bench.
“Coach, can I join the game at last?”
He smiled, “You didn't need to ask.”
No more life poised on close or almost,
Joined the game, now a grateful player.
Watching and waiting brought me to trying.
Play hard 'til the whistle, don't track the time,
Finally in the game and miles from that sideline.