She Can…

Another poem written in a flash. The rhyme scheme is very forced and all the bold lines are actually lines I took from another poem. But, it was really fun to write, and I tried, without exhausting myself, to end with an image of an empty baseball stadium, save one person watching a game. I think as Christian’s we tend to overemphasize all the other observers watching us play this game called life and forget that only one person’s belief in us really matters. That person isn’t going anywhere when it seems the odds are stacked against us, not when miracles are always in play, and I bet the Big Guy throws one hell of a tail gate party pre-game too. I imagine God could drink a ton of beer! I assume he is not a “Coors lite” guy either. He probably has the good stuff locked up in his heavenly fridge, guarded by seraphim and cherubim…but I digress…but not before I mention the Hot dog’s (which are most likely Kosher), I bet they are real Hot Dog’s, like Hot Dog’s are an actual animal and they are a delicacy of sorts. 100% ground Hot Dog! The Best! Anyway, I have lost a significant amount of sports knowledge, but from what I remember, I called on that to construct the image in this poem. I hope it is basic enough to include everyone. Cheers!

 

She Can…

 

The Hail-Mary moment,

Always the final two minutes,

Buzzer beater, don’t blow it!

Last round knock out,

Nothing like an electric shock

Of odds overcome.

 

But here we are,

Slim and grim chances

Like beating death Himself.

Down by “it doesn’t matter what”

Everyone’s abandoned her

And poured out all the exits

To make their escape just before

Things get too hard.

 

BUT I know something they do not

She was never the underdog

Was always gonna win, not be forgot

No matter what their foolish talk.

From the beginning she believed,

She would be great at something,

Exceede peoples expectations.

So, here she stands ready

To get all kinds of admirations

Knock her dreams out of the park

Into the world and then embark,

To know the world at a deeper level.

 

It’s up to her to take this by the throat,

Find happyness in struggles

Now that the count is full at 3-2.

I’m sure she can imagine,

The eruption of the crowd

When her world is soaring out…

And she is rounding third,

She will be loved, adored, respected.

 

And now the crowd is screaming

As the pitchers eyes are gleaming,

Fight the fear!

Seize the day!

She has already got him beat.

The truth is in her head,

Just one last question to seek

Before she knock’s it dead.

 

Can she Handle the truth

That she already believes?

That she is already perfect,

That she is already a winner,

That this game is in the bag,

That she can…

Be great at something.

Exceede peoples expectations.

Know the world at a deeper level.

Find happyness in struggles.

Be loved, adored, respected.

Fight the fear.

Seize the day.

Handle the truth.

Find God.

 

In a packed out stadium of one,

I’ve got front row seats—

 

And I’m not going anywhere.

 

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