“the black and white” response
I’m a soccer player, I run for 80 minutes straight and I love it. Many girls my age detest the idea with anything that has to do intense physical activities; my friends often ask why I play soccer and frankly I don’t know, but the poem “the black and white” describes it perfectly. Part of me hates the pain I feel on my legs after running, the fire that bursts in my chest from running suicides over and over again, or the bruises I have all over my knees that caused me to limp because a girl  miscalculated  her aim but I enjoy it. I feel as if showing my bruises are like battle scars, proud that I gave it my all and defended my team from another soccer player that tried to score and from that I got a bruise. I feel as if the victory of defending and dodging the offence to score outweighs everything I dislike, everything clears out the only thing on my mind is beating the other team and putting my skills to the test. After all the entire quote “No Pain No Gain” would not exist.