Seven- six
Top of the eighth
And they're callin'
This the best
Damn game of the season
Beer? Ice
Cold beer, here
We'll take three for the
Road and run
For first
Like hell on wheels
Three strikes
You're out
Just like three miles
Till I'm over you
And I believe
I've run at least
Seven
Bottom of
The ninth
One to even
It up
You walk one
I catch two
Bases loaded,
Two outs
I slam one more
As you slam it outta
The park
And I guess
you win
With that lucky
Home run.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
, , , , , ............ that was DEEP!