this is a (metaphor) poem i wrote for english.
yes... i actually applied myself for once....
Walking up to home plate
I can feel, taste, the dust in the air.
I adjust my feet, choke up on my bat
and i nod my head to clarify im ready.
She pitches the ball, i choose not to swing.
I hear the 5-letter word uttered from the umpire behind me.
Strike! he yelled, as i tighten my grip
and i reset my stance for the next ball to come.
I'm more anxious now than before
waiting patiently for the right one to come my way
I see her wind up, pitch the ball
and i choose not to swing, it just doesnt feel right.
2 strikes, and this is my last chance,
my chance to make the right choice
my chance to run with it, and feel proud
This time i swing with all my might, just to strike out and end my night.
End.
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