Balls
AlexBoyd
Registrant
Balls in my court.
That's right,
I only think about my own now,
And why shouldn't I?
Don't try to make me feel selfish
For loving myself.
I wish I knew who needs
To receive this poem the most.
I'm not returning the balls
In my court.
You held them long enough.
These balls are mine.
Forehand, backhand,
Whatever stroke I choose,
Your one-way game is over.
I'll serve myself. Ace!
My court, my rules.
Hitting alone,
With just a backboard,
I make powerful sounds,
Unlike the whimpers you made
While banging your headboard.
Now I'm taller than you,
Stronger than you. 40-love
Oh, and my parting shot--
My balls are better than yours.
Game. Set. Match.
That's right,
I only think about my own now,
And why shouldn't I?
Don't try to make me feel selfish
For loving myself.
I wish I knew who needs
To receive this poem the most.
I'm not returning the balls
In my court.
You held them long enough.
These balls are mine.
Forehand, backhand,
Whatever stroke I choose,
Your one-way game is over.
I'll serve myself. Ace!
My court, my rules.
Hitting alone,
With just a backboard,
I make powerful sounds,
Unlike the whimpers you made
While banging your headboard.
Now I'm taller than you,
Stronger than you. 40-love
Oh, and my parting shot--
My balls are better than yours.
Game. Set. Match.