Writing Poetry

If you can call it that. This may come off as misogynistic or vulgar, but I’m thinking that no one will be up in arms about this lil’ piece. It’s about a superficial middle-aged guy who can’t get a girlfriend. If you are offended, you know where to write.

For Love of the Game

I’ll say that true love plays like a pop-fly in the sky
And you’ve always got your mitt in the spot where the sun’s in your eyes
So it’s hard to clip or snag that slim chance on Earth to survive
In a world full of girls who’ll give you a whirl
Then decide, “Well, you see, you’re just not my type”

I’m telling you:
There’s a price you pay to make it safe
Back to home with a wife at your old age
It’s called settling down and grinding it out
And being okay with the double A’s

Some reckless guys might dare to try a double-header just for fun
Sure there’s a thrill in keeping it chill when you can’t get your fill on just one
With both, you’ll go first, second, third base and burst for the plate being sparkled by that sun
Then it’ll slip out your mouth, “Amanda, my love, come South”
And Nicole will let you know who has won

Remember:
There’s a price you pay to make it safe
Back to home with a wife at your old age
It’s called settling down and grinding it out
And being okay with the double A’s

Mr. 47 year-old single man in Atlanta
If you’re finding that every single one just can’t stand ya
You might want to tell them off the bat you’re too shallow
And not as brave as the baseball squad you shadow

Your love is not blind and will not need corrective lenses
It’s as clear as your team’s loss on Monday with the Twins
So if you don’t want to be deflated again like your ‘67 Chevy’s tires
Why don’t you just retire?

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Published in: on August 7, 2008 at 7:54 am  Leave a Comment  

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