(Prose Style Poem)
Fear has always gotten in the way of my dreams and yet it hasn't gotten in the way of my life. Luck maybe? I don't know, but I walked up to him that day knowing he was probably a little out of my league, but I yearned for the championship, yearned for the accomplishment, yearned to know what TV shows made him smile and dive into the deep secrets of his style. His contact in hand, I hit the ball for a home run, watching it go into the stands and thinking– "There's no way anyone could stop that ball, aka my success of finally getting his number, from exiting the playing field. I ran my victory lap too early, 20 feet...30...40, smiling as I closed in on first base, 50...60.. when suddenly........the ball hit me in the back. Woe is me. I couldn't even get to first base, a return text message, a "Hey, what's up", thus the ref's whistle blew and I was out.
Inspiration: This was a poem I wrote for a class assignment using the Prose poem style. Basically, a prose poem is a on-going piece of work with little use of punctuation. This poem also is related to my poem called "Delivered" which has the main idea of being ghosted🤷🏽♀️
