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Baseball
July 30, 2008
let the dirt brush against your dirty, old cleats
as you stride down the lane not ready to accept yet another defeat
the sweatbeads trickle down your back as you step up to home base
and don't forget to wear your famous sour, wry face
turn to the pitcher with that arcane, meaningful stare
relax and mutter a hushed, little prayer
hear them crowds chanting your name
but pay no attention; this is your game
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This article has 3 comments.
bballchic said...
on Oct. 16 2008 at 8:37 pm
I really like this poem! Great job! If you want read my poem, "Rip It Down The Line", it is similar to yours! Great job!
amburr;] said...
on Sep. 25 2008 at 3:35 am
IT'S GOOOD ;]]
bOBBY said...
on Sep. 14 2008 at 3:14 am
its really touching
