Christian Lopez Poems

As I slip on my soft white baseball pants and slowly button up my uniform, I feel every stitch running across my fingers
Putting on my cleats with such gentleness and care, I lace them up tight so they hold the power which lies within them
The crisp feeling of my cleats crunching on the clay infield dirt, I lightly jog to where I am suppose to be
Warming up getting my arm a nice warm feeling, I throw the 9” white leather ball to my teammate on the other side
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