Red Shift ( Blank poem)

Here I am at 8:15 P.M. diesel built frame.
The air is scented with the smell of hard work.
On the way to success, there's a street scape.
I drink the milk which strengthens your bones and teeth to have a healthy body,
and to stand in the streets looks the next best thing for me.
I’m 5’11, 150 pounds.
It’s how big your heart is that determines your size.
The huddle is formed on me.
I’ve grown through it, then as the team sits on Gatorade, now almost two years ago, standing, watching the game, and telling.
Who would’ve thought that I’d be here.
Nothing thought of me.
Everything gave to be a competitor.
Up in the stands, they root.
Now more than ever before, not that little freshman who is slow and un-athletic, but a senior in a plastic padded coat.
Eyes penetrating through my opponent’s soul, and he is scared.
Into position I go, not that kid I thought I was, but a teen that is going to have to go.
Careening into a field of defenders so to distract and to farther our positions.
Imagine so to go.
Not that man who from very first meeting I would never and never thought I could be.
Into the game, and so demanded to play and who will never leave me not for a moment, nor for an hour, nor even for an eternity which is only our human lot and means.
Only our human lot and means and that’s that.
I am a beast.
When will I die?
I will never die.
I will live to be the best.
And I will never go away.
And you will never escape from me.
Who am always and only a player, despite this game.
Despite who lives only to play.
I am only a kid.
And I am about to graduate.
I didn’t want this to end.
So soon I came into your life for the experience of a lifetime.
This is a fate, nevertheless, I love this game.
The world, a playing field,
And I will play to the end