The cheering of the joyous fans
calls me to the plate
The smell of fresh cut grass
awakens my mind from its slumber
I stare into the loathing eyes
of the pitcher who stands in my way
The ball comes
twisting and twirling
towards my face
I swing
The thunder of the people up above
The bat connects with a CRACK
The ball sails over the wall
The sun warms my face
Comments
My favorite out of all of my poems!
Of course it is, Emmett 🙄. It's good. This is Sofie btw.
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