The crowds roar in a thunderous cry.

Between teams the tension high.

I feel my father’s hand firmly gripping mine,

Telling me to “Hold on tight!”

As crowds cheer for the team that’s great,

My father and I begin to separate.

It finally hits, that blood curdling fear.

My father is not anywhere near.

I call for him, and hope he is near.

In my eyes I can feel tears.

My face turns red, my throat feels tight.

Then a man says “Are you alright?”

I shake my head fast, a silent plea.

“I need help. Will you help me?”

I tell him why I am to cry.

“Come now,” he says. “We will try.”

We walk through the crowds,

My fear he shrouds.

I hear a name through the roar,

The sound of my father makes my heart soar.

As I walk away

From that unfortunate delay,

I wonder if that was all for naught,

Or if I was just lost in thought.