Mark Guttag

Color War

When you are younger winning is all that seems to matter,
When you grow older wisdom is what you gather.
The first time you lose Color War you feel morose,
The first time you win you feel grandiose.

At Camp Caribou in Maine,
Two-hundred boys can be a real pain.
Some have fun away from home,
While others feel sad and all alone.

We have Color War at the end of the summer,
If you are on the losing team, it is a real bummer.
We are split into two teams that compete against each other,
Wearing shirts that make us feel like we are all brothers.

In some of the games it is bad to be short,
Basketball is an example of such a sport.
For some games like football it hurts to be weak,
Especially if everybody calls you a geek.

My first year I was scared and immature,
My last year I felt confident and secure.
My first year I was small and meek,
My last year I was tall and had an amazing technique.

Winning is no longer the most important goal,
Losing no longer takes such a toll on my soul.
I learned to play hard the entire time,
And when the team wins I don’t claim the glory as all mine.

I know now that no one wins all the time,
I realize that most winning isn’t worth a dime.
I know that I learn more from losing than from winning,
From losing I learned to be caring, humble and forgiving.


Copyright 2002-2006 Student Publishing Program (SPP). Poetry and prose 2002-2006 by individual authors. Reprinted with permission. SPP developed and designed by Strong Bat Productions.