Breakfast Balls
I strode to the tee
my ego and me,
a season anew
in wee pellet's pursuit.
Lies fair and rough,
in water and woods -
a journey that proves
that practice and perfect
are misplaced in
the same cliche' like
many another utterance
in the game;
"Never up never in",
"Get in the hole"
makes one cringe with
ulterior implications yet,
"You da man!"
The weapons and the ball
...and the brain
must dance without stepping
on each others foot.
And - mistakes must be forgiven
before the ego is dragged out
for one more try...
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
