SOME OF MY POEMS ARE FROM STORIES THAT I’VE HEARD AND THEN WRITTEN THE STORY AS A POEM.
"Third String Scrub"
(From a story I heard and converted to a poem--I wrote this poem when I was a teenager. This football game took place in the days when a football game could end in a tie. The coach has the unfortunate scenario of having to play his 3rd string quarterback. With the score tied, the coach has determined not to risk losing the game, but to play conservatively and settle for a tie.)
The score was tied at six with just two minutes left to play,
But upon the home team came the disaster of the day;
Their quarterback got hurt, and the second-stringer was sick;
The horrible third stringer was the only one left to pick.
The coach was frustrated--his soul filled with dismay;
He told the scrub, "Run three quarterback sneaks, and kick the ball away".
The sorry scrub, looking happy, jumped up and said, "I'm here!"
Asked his coach, "What if..." -- "No what ifs; Is that clear?"
"Yes sir", said the scrub, "that's very clear, but say..."
The coach stopped him, "No but says either, just get out there and play".
The scrub took his instructions, and stumbled onto the field;
The first play, the defense, fifteen yards did yield.
With just 1:45 left, the second sneak was run,
And went all the way to the opponents thirty-one.
Then on the third sneak, the scrub broke in the free,
And ran for twenty-eight yards to the opponents yardline three.
They gathered in the huddle, and the scrub recalled what his coach did say;
He backed off from the center, and kicked the ball away.
It went plumb over the bleachers and into a far away street;
The coach ran onto the field intending that boy to beat.
"Just what were you thinking when you kicked that ball?" the coach said screaming mad;
The scrub said, "I was thinking what a stupid coach we had."
Imagine for a moment your favorite thing is ants;
It may sound quite silly but give it a chance.
Imagine that for ants, anything you would do;
Imagine that ants are the most important thing to you.
Now imagine these ants are out in the road
Carrying their food back to their abode,
When off in the distance a tractor you see,
But the ants do not see it, no matter your plea.
No matter how you holler, they don’t understand,
And as the tractor approaches, you come up with a plan.
You can become one of them, and then you can try
To get them to look up, so they won’t have to die.
You make them understand what you’re trying to say,
And you tell them to hurry and get out of the way.
But just part of them believe that what you tell them is true,
And you watch the others die because they didn’t follow you.
And it breaks your heart to watch them die
After to convince them so hard you did try.
After going through all this, you saved just a few;
Now think, -- Isn’t that just what GOD did for you?
He knew judgment was coming in the distance behind,
But we couldn’t see it, ‘cause we were all blind.
And as it approached, He carried out His plan;
He became one of us, so we’d understand.
But very few listened and from the road did leave,
And the tractor’s running over those who do not believe.
And GOD is heart – broken; I can’t understand
How he could reach out to help man, and them turn down His hand;
And the tractors still coming; some move and some stay;
And JESUS – heart-broken – pleads, “Get out of the way!”