I stood with laces double-tied,
Hope knotted up and tucked inside.
The chalk was fresh, the field was wide—
But somehow, I was brushed aside.
One by one, the names were said,
And each one turned a hopeful head.
Each name but mine, a quiet thread,
Unspooling silence in its stead.
They didn’t laugh, they didn’t tease—
They just forgot me with such ease.
Like I was air, like I was breeze—
Somethin...