She is here. Her pleased soul
Racing. In her hand is much more than a bat.
Her hands hold her true passion.
Her hands hold her hopes and dreams.
She says to herself, just breath.
She thinks to herself, it’s time to concentrate.
As she continues to concentrate,
Her mind wonders as far as her soul
Will let her. She tries her best to breath.
It is her turn. She walks up to the box to bat.
This has always been her love. One of many dreams.
Her one true heart. Her passion.
This is her time. She stands at the plate. Her passion
Leading her to give her all. To concentrate.
Her arms go up and her heart speeds, as in her dreams.
If only she could feel this way constantly. Deep in her soul.
Her hands hold her love. Her heart. The bat.
She watches the pitcher rocks back. She can’t breath.
As she watches the ball come toward her, her breath
Stops in her lungs. She loves it. This is her one passion.
She watches it slow. Her arms swing. The bat
Her only guideline. To her, now there is no just concentrate.
She is already there. Her zone. It seeps deep into her soul.
The swing filling that space. Never happened outside her dreams.
In every single one, her heart fills. Only in dreams.
She feels nothing but happiness and her breath.
Her mind says she is there, she is not says her soul.
Her eyes light up as the ball flies. This one makes her passion
The reason it is. She runs and sees the ball far and high. She need concentrate
No more. She looks back. It’s laying on the ground. The bat.
She sees it. She notices something isn’t right. The bat
Is gone. She looks around. Seems like her dreams.
Her head is swimmy. Even if she needed to she couldn’t concentrate.
It was but a dream within a dream. She tries, yet she can’t breath.
Her thoughts jumbled as she is startled awake. Her passion gone.
The midnight dream. Her mind screams. Pain within her soul.
She could only but contain her soul within her dreams.
She can imagine that bat on the field, her passion.
Her mind trying to concentrate. She is still out of breath.
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