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Rated: E · Poetry · Experience · #1396350
This is an older poem, just for fun. I hope you enjoy it.
Crack! ‘Where is it? I can’t see!
Oh, God, please don’t let it be coming to me.’
Everyone’s screaming for something to be done.
It all seems unreal, like I’m out here all alone.

‘There it is! Oh no, it is coming my way!’
It’s up to me to catch it, can I make the play?
Constantly running, hoping not to mis-judge,
Thud! Ten feet past me. I’ve got to chase it and catch up.

“Throw it here!” “No, throw it here!” “Just get it in!”
‘Who do I go to? What do I do? It doesn’t matter, just get rid of it!’
‘God, me again. One more favor to ask.
Please let this be a good throw: hard strait and fast.’

‘Ok. It’s gone.’ I’m too scared to look and see.
‘At least everyone’s stopped looking at me.
I’ll just go back to my spot,’ not looking up from the grass.
I’m still too nervous to be able to relax.

“YOU’RE OUT!” ‘Alright! Wait, is that out three?
Did that just happen because of me?’
Gotta jog to the dugout where I can just sit.
I’m not a star, so no one’ll say much about what I just did.

‘God, thanks for helping me while I was out there, alone in the grass.
I really appreciate it . . . Oh no, I’m up to bat!’
© Copyright 2008 R. Bradley McLawhorn (mclawhorn at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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