On a bright morning, my back
kissed my bed the last
and out, my feet decide
To journey in the open
Faces by my side they passed
with smiles and a brief chat
hopeful of the things ahead
And things not sure about
Then a male, quite feminine in act
decides to swing a bat
a shot aimed at my mind
Crick, crack, it snapped
Friendly sport he was
and the Force insisted
I took the next shot
Mine, accompanied by a bang
was the game's very last
as the opponent fell
Too weak to play on
Referees in sirens and
uniforms, held me by hand
and led me to where
My prize I'd receive
The day the force drives
The day that feels blind
is the day that holds no light
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem