The Ninth Inning

Oh, what a distraction I let you become.
Oh, what an attachment I let myself create.
Oh, how I repeatedly proved that you had won.
Oh, how foolishly willing I was to wait so late.

My, how decidedly I kept on fighting.
My, how undecidedly you walked away.
My, how every spark kept relighting.
My, how stubbornly long I really did stay.

Oh, how I dreamt of the home stretch so often.
Oh, how you still refused to be honest.
Oh, how completely I let my heart soften
Oh, how I let myself senselessly lose all the rest.

My, how much it was really wanted.
My, how you never had the courage needed.
My, how shortly it was really bunted.
My, how I wished you would have leaded.

But, oh, no more- no more.

My wishes, dreams, and fouls are far sent.
And I hate where all the wasted time went.
I’m finally slamming closed that door.
I’m running from the dirt field to a cleaner floor.

For I stood patiently in that outfield too long.
And you never truly stepped up to the plate.
An empire might have called us both wrong.
But now, at the game’s end, it’s just too late.

Oh, no longer will I wait on a play from you.
Oh, no longer will I wish you knew what to do.
Oh, what beautiful poems- alone- I wrote.
Oh, what a missed fly ball; this is my final note.

--Written by Sandy Heights


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