Might blushes be blood to the sharks of my shame
Banished brothers, hyena cubs howl
Savanna and grainy grey asphalt the same
Mighty boys throw fate like a ball
Chewed cuffs bare blue threads of fear at the sleeve
Like palms open and wanting and ready
The ball means wanted, accepted
Or humiliated, out-held, left empty
Scabs cover scrapes, beaten bruises fade
Even fears are forgotten on Friday
Exclusion’s scolding slight takes a lifetime to wane
Might blushes be blood to the sharks of my shame?