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In the Middle of All Three

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After the softball is released, that thing comes to my sight.
No need to power it, so just grasp it light.
Swinging the bat, focusing on the ball.
As that worn lemon thing flies, I heed cheers from all.

Already at first, I’m ready for the steal.
I desire to proceed to third, but I have to keep it real.
When the pitcher is in her motion, I wait for the forceful hit.
Here I go, ahh. The ball is already in her worn mit.

While the ball is dribbled down the court, the tepid sweat rolls down.
Who should I pass it too, is credence around?
Taking a chance, so I heave it to a flashy teammate.
Since she shot, are we going to be in fate?

Luckily, I got the rebound and put it back up.
Now we are tied, who craves for the gold cup?
While I'm on defense, I demand that steal.
That player blows by me, I hope we can heal.

Ready to serve, and I don’t mean peppery food.
Looking for the weakest link, not to be rude.
As soon as I power it over, I relish witnessing the fear in their eyes.
Pay attention to the game and not to the buzzing flies.

Now it’s our turn to acquire the patterned ball.
We have to get this, so we don’t fall.
Making those swollen girls fold, as I spike.
After we won, we told those girls to take a hike.





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