The curse of a secondary mind
is striving for the upper hand
leaning on false props
feelings of grandeur at another's expense.
 
We yearn for more
afraid to realize that this life we're given
is the one we're supposed to live
not pining away for heroes and babes
as though winning
or getting something fancy
will change the fact that we're just a small part
of something much larger than we can see
 
thinking that it's not enough
or our difficult circumstances
are excuse enough to hide away everyday
in a life that passes by while we play at things
that drift away, meaningless
on the end of a noose
dangling there like a child who never saw anything real
 
like love
or friendship
the taste of a snow cone on a hot summer's day
the whitewash of snow as a sled screams down the hill
hanging on for dear life
with a brother, a sister, a mother or a father
or a good friend riding behind
trying to steer without fear
wide open grins for an experience
of something more than victory
 
With the crack of a bat
coming around third and heading toward home
is it the win or the thrill of playing the game?
Because the answer to that question
makes all the difference in the world.

(Written by Bob Devine.  This work is freely shared and is not for sale.)