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My Golf Monster
My club making the tink sound
And the whoosh of the wind when the ball is hit with a huge pound.
The vibration that went right through every single bone
Made it feel like I just hit one big giant stone.
Satisfaction went through the brain
I like Tiger Woods shooting a ball across a plain.
The ball reaching up so high in the sky
A whisper comes out that said goodbye
But it was farewell
The golf ball was going to be expelled.
A giant beast was taking it away from me
A nightmare, they say, that goes on a spree.
The texture looking so crinkled
Like an old person’s skin so wrinkly.
The golf ball is immersed into existence
Dreaming the ball’s supposed distance.
They say the name of this figure is essential
But this time it is very consequential.
Spotting the ball from the point of a finger by the spotter
Then, seeing from the distance, a big splash of water.
The wave of frustration that goes through my brain
As I shout out loud, I will never play this game again.
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