Kickball
I was always picked last
My shorts were too short
Inching up my inner thighs
I’d outgrown the pink tank top
And my belly hung like the moon
Captains took turns picking
I wasn’t selected
Alone as a Statuary
Eyes somber
The girls branded as the clique
Mocked me
Awkward, embarrassed
As if my clothes had fallen off
Being last was not a pick
But a forced entry
My teammates taunt
The tears, I swallow
Lip tight
Courage thrives in adversity
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Author:
Katie B. (
Offline) - Published: March 23rd, 2026 06:52
- Category: Short story
- Views: 23
- Users favorite of this poem: Tristan Robert Lange, Carlos Alberto BUSTILLOS
Offline)
Comments3
Raw and hard hitting for anyone that was not picked for the team. It speaks with hurt but as the last line says courage thrives in adversity. Well written Katie
Katie, this brings me back to those moments…standing there, waiting, hoping not to be last. The disappointment of always being picked last...That mix of embarrassment and quiet resilience feels very real here. Well done and a fave.🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
Yes it can be hard but it has made you stronger Katie and that strength will not come to the others.
Andy
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