Disappointment
September 22, 2002
We stand on weary feet, ridged at attention,
Our heads held high in expectation.
The names begin to ring,
Each tightening our nerves.
We all lean, ready to embrace victory.
The speaker crackles and speaks no us.
We all let go of held breaths, sighing softly.
We all let go of hopes that should have been granted.
Shoulders sag, our practice has been in vain.
Our eyes drop to dusty black shoes.
We are failures, we see it now.
Yet another participation plaque our only trophy.