Whom to Satisfy?

The bright-faced child runs behind the ball

Struggling, falling, hurting yet going

The bruised body does not register pain

Just keeps moving behind the red ball.

The voices continue louder, cheering

The sweat trickles down, mixing with blood

The tired body wants to halt, rest it demands

Yet the child goes on behind the ball alluring.

The panting heart threatens to burst

The parched throat cries of thirst

Yet the crowd cheers, go on, go on

And the child struggles for glory that once shone

The unanticipated fall comes suddenly

Across the field lies she breathlessly

The crumpled body is devoid of feeling

But yet the crowd keeps calling

Get up, they say go on and on

But she can hear no more

The red ball is in her hands

 As the final breath ebbs out.

Lost is the joy of victory

Gone are the tears of defeat

The entire struggle for her was nothing

For others, it was merely a feat.