Sent: 2/6/2006 10:10 PM
i'm a sweaty ten
flushed red cheeks
white knickers
with padding
and my heart
is racing
pounding
batting
on things.
i knew
i'd never be
a baseball player
like mama and daddy
encouraged so
hitting homeruns
shortstopping hits
in left field
sand was far
from my eyes
as i searched
for the fourleaf clover
in the sunlit patch
hoping to receive
a sign of luck
the chance that life
was truly more
than just a game
and still now
many years later
with frozen pink cheeks
as white hairs grow
over a cold hole
in the ice
all around
frozen water
and me fishing
i suddenly realize
i'm still batting
on things
struggling to take
the risk of hitting the ball
it flying high by
me not concious
of the web
catching behind
yet now I see
for a reason
i'm just trying
to find that
perfect pitch
to me
the pitch
the break
the smash
that would make me
bat it out of the park
the one that would be
a full homerun
i just need to know
which
pitch
is
the
bite
