Prized IgnoranceIím sorry, but you should have seen it coming.
The way it sat there, glistening, gleaming on that pedestal,
The brand new white leather, the crimson seams,
Your favorite specimen, the finest in sports memorabilia
Cursed to forever gaze upon it was my burden,
It was beckoning for me,
A lonely child, waiting to be played with,
That smudged scrawl of ink could have been a stain;
Not the mark of a legend, a champion.
Well, I hit my first homer
While, you were so enthralled,
With your collection, your prizes, your possessions
That I would never be a prize to you,
Never a student of the game, never a teammate, never a son.
Iím sorry, but only for your ignorance.
[TABLE OF CONTENTS, LHS CLASS OF 2013 EDITION]
Copyright © 2002-2011 Student Publishing Program (SPP). Poetry and prose © 2002-2011 by individual authors. Reprinted with permission.