Salty tears burn like alcohol on my open, dry wounded face.
How quickly we correct our grammar from present-tense to past,
As if grammar has no remorse, no sympathy for the loved one.
Streams of salt continue to dominate my stressed eye lids, as my ears listen to those forsaken words again and again.
The excess salt is changing the pH of my soul and the fluidity of my words start sliding off the tip of my tongue, as I try to articulate, I'm sorry in undetectable sounds.
As milliseconds go by, I reminiscence on the kind of man he is.
I am forced to acknowledge that this tone must be spoken in present-tense because these are more than facts, and who needs grammar to neglect the truth.
He is a fatherly figure to me, like his daughter he believes in me.
At every practice I spend with him: blood, sweat, and tears.
How quickly we correct our grammar from present-tense to past,
As if grammar has no remorse, no sympathy for the loved one.
Streams of salt continue to dominate my stressed eye lids, as my ears listen to those forsaken words again and again.
The excess salt is changing the pH of my soul and the fluidity of my words start sliding off the tip of my tongue, as I try to articulate, I'm sorry in undetectable sounds.
As milliseconds go by, I reminiscence on the kind of man he is.
I am forced to acknowledge that this tone must be spoken in present-tense because these are more than facts, and who needs grammar to neglect the truth.
He is a fatherly figure to me, like his daughter he believes in me.
At every practice I spend with him: blood, sweat, and tears.
I do not know he is instilling in me notions of self worth.
On that balance beam, he teaches me how to challenge myself.
On bars, how to conquer my fears.
On vault, how to overcome my weaknesses,
and on floor how to shine bright as the sun he knows I am.
He has such a riveting humor, calling me names like banana head, and funny looking ears which listen honestly and intentionally to all my school childhood stories.
Countless memories are of only the music, him, and me allowing
blood, sweat, and tears fill our spacious air.
It is very familiar, like an old stain that never washes off.
He is patient and stern and I never was afraid of that.
Other girls couldn't see, what I see: humility, dedication, and love for his gymnasts.
He, an award-wining gymnast who is forever proud of me as I am forever proud of him, sees me all grown up.
The little girl blossoms in accomplishments, and his smile surely tells so.
He is the unforgettable bond I am blessed to create and what I will always cherish.
As words flow from my fingertips, salty tears drop again.
They are sincere and for him because they mean thank you.
Thank you, thank you.
Gracias.
Beautiful people enter and leave this world making impacts on little heartbeats like mine.
Coach Bob did.
-Arnelle W.
On that balance beam, he teaches me how to challenge myself.
On bars, how to conquer my fears.
On vault, how to overcome my weaknesses,
and on floor how to shine bright as the sun he knows I am.
He has such a riveting humor, calling me names like banana head, and funny looking ears which listen honestly and intentionally to all my school childhood stories.
Countless memories are of only the music, him, and me allowing
blood, sweat, and tears fill our spacious air.
It is very familiar, like an old stain that never washes off.
He is patient and stern and I never was afraid of that.
Other girls couldn't see, what I see: humility, dedication, and love for his gymnasts.
He, an award-wining gymnast who is forever proud of me as I am forever proud of him, sees me all grown up.
The little girl blossoms in accomplishments, and his smile surely tells so.
He is the unforgettable bond I am blessed to create and what I will always cherish.
As words flow from my fingertips, salty tears drop again.
They are sincere and for him because they mean thank you.
Thank you, thank you.
Gracias.
Beautiful people enter and leave this world making impacts on little heartbeats like mine.
Coach Bob did.
-Arnelle W.