Monday, January 24, 2011

My Life as a Baseball Bat

I get cared for tenderly at first,
get dropped calmly into a rack with my friends.
The Killer grabs me and i get warmed up.
I take a stretch and head to the plate,
fly through the air in a couple of quick cuts
and then stop as I wait to attack the nemesis.
He skips through the air as I take a swing.
We collide in midair and he leaves the park
while I clumsily fall to the ground.
My job is done only until
the next Home Run.

4 comments:

  1. I like that you used a baseball for the poem it was a good poem.

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  2. I like how you describe the batter as "The Killer"

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  3. This comment has been removed by the author.

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  4. this is an awesome person you described it very well! good job!!!

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