12.5 Balls Per Second Poem by Nicholas Louie

The front seat, moving at 60 miles an hour.
Loud music blasting in your ears.
Hands cold from the adrenaline.
Hope that your gearbag has everything.

All of a sudden, you hear the buzzer.
The barrel moves up as quick as quick can be.
Fingers never letting up.
Instinct tells you to move.
'Left corner! '
'Snake one! '

You know whats going on.
Then you forget.
The TechPB videos take over.
Your slide is perfect.
Finish off the round.

Triumph at 12.5 balls per second