Bowling’s Sad Front: Such a Just Beef

Enjoy the day of bowling - no matter how bad - a sports rhyming poem.

Full construction, awesome business;
Right on time, and kicking ass…

Finding turtle, stickiness…
Streets on fire, tons of class -

Needed students, finest coaches.
Help in earnest, newest cards -

Never callous in approaches -
Always highest in regards. 

Players learn one greatest lesson;
Coaches just one point to make.

All the struggles, failure, guessin’.
Lower scores which are not fake.

Reset after, when done bowling.
Pitch games with a new, clean slate;

Past is over, crews are strolling.
Grabbing, strutting, swerving great.

The slate is clear when one resets.
The low scores don’t collect and sink;

The higher games, what bowlers get -
Guys and girls don’t need a shrink;

Put up with abysmal lane -
Scores will not reflect one’s worth -

Folks smell sweeter, trace that grain,
Or lack thereof with joy and mirth.