Swing. Hit. Drop And Leave Poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

A heavy hitter may swivel hips.
Or a nerd perceive,
To have limp wrists.
However...
Some fooled and tricked by this,
May discover themselves recovering...
By smelling salts to assist their awareness.

Swing.
Hit.
Drop and leave,
Is the best remedy...
To return one back to reality.

A heavy hitter may hide a bat.
Or a fist wrapped in a sequined glove.
To distract from enacting,
Kept facts not to miss...
By another who insists,
Judging others alone by their appearances...
Will be a lesson to learn that comes unexpected.
And many lessons one comes to remember,
Are the ones that are swift.
Without notes to take from anyone to get.

Swing.
Hit.
Drop and leave.
Is the best remedy...
To return one back to reality.

A clown with a face masked,
Is seldom laughing underneath.
And no one knows but that clown,
The emotions felt...
Someone who clowns carries around.
To leave those who joke,
Believe they can provoke some folks.

Swing.
Hit.
Drop and leave.
Is the best remedy...
To return one back to reality.

'Uh...
They didn't even stay to hear me say,
I'm sorry.'

~If I were you,
I would keep that admitted to yourself,
From now on.
And hopefully,
Whoever it was to have hit you like that,
Is not on a mission to teach others lessons.
But I suspect,
The message they left was personal.
One to you delivered even I wont forget.~