by Tim Chiu
A poem about repeated failures in sports - hold your head high, it will be alright!
|Sensing the zeros do further much grief, |
Ahead lies some value, a minor relief.
Suddenly harnessing range that’s still known -
Manage those winners, a Plymouth Rock shown.
Wishing our struggles would come to an end,
Certain that rumbling to mice shall not bend...
Begging for morals, those visceral needs;
The saintly are patterned through excellent deeds.
Exchanges quite proper embody their worst -
A milestone planet just savagely cursed!
A weakened paralysis ruptures our spleen?
Surrounded by young’uns, a herd that’s so mean...