America's Pastime

They call it America’s pastime,
a field of white lines
drawn like promises on green grass.

A bat rises
like hope in the hands of someone
taught to believe in chances.

The ball comes fast,
like a question nobody agrees on,
and for a moment
We all wait for the same answer.

But even here,
not every story is equal
some carried by louder cheers,
some lost between innings.

Still, we watch.
We hope.
We swing anyway.

And for nine innings,
we almost believe
the game means the same
to everyone.