You Can't Have it All

But you can have hot chocolate on a bitter, rainy day,
Its warmth like a comforting hug from your family.
You can have the always-hilarious stories your seven-teen year-old sister shares
with you about the things that have happened over the years
amongst her friends.
You can have the sound of the alarm clock,
Waking you up at six on a Saturday morning
because you forgot to switch the alarm of the night before.
You can have a sold-out crowd at a game,
when hopes of winning it all were lost two months and a huge disappointment ago.
You can have the heaviness of your sweaty shirt
Like giant hands grasping you back,
Not letting you move
after a difficult, demanding practice.
You can have sound of your parents’ radio,
Barely being able to determine if it’s talk radio or music
between the deluge of static.
You can visit your grandparents,
And having them comment on how much you’ve grown since you last visited them,
Three months ago.
You can have a “Yankees Suck” chant
At a Red Sox vs Twins game.
You can have the taste of a cold, chilly Gatorade after running three miles,
And you can have a twelve hour sleep during the weekend after a rough week.
You can have the constant pain in your shoulders and back
After spending a day at the beach refusing to put on sunblock.
You can wear the shirt you’ve had for so many years,
And wondering how it still fits you,
Despite outgrowing all your other clothes.
You can have a can of Coca-Cola when you get home,
And you can have the smell of the cookies your grandmother makes
As she takes them out of the oven.
You can stay up to midnight doing absolutely nothing,
And fall asleep at eight while doing homework.
You can have the chocolate bar you where saving for later melt,
And instead lick it off the wrapper.
You can dive into the pool straight after eating,
Refusing to listen to your mother,
You can have all these wonderful things,
But you can’t have it all.