The Error: A Baseball Sonnet

How do you post everyday?

Pulsonic Baseball Game image by Joe Haput CC BY-SA

The Error

by Cosmic Poet Simon Pole

I thought I had it in my glove,
The ball which white-streaked off the bat,
It curled, bounced bad, and hopped above
The place I stabbed my leather at.
Then three runs scored—that day we lost,
My weak left hand the win us cost.
Who can endure it everyday?
We try and miss the highest mark.
Who can completely ready stay,
Or practice hard from dawn till dark?
No help we have except the Hand,
Which makes us strong, and makes us stand.
So once more in the batter’s box,
And let us hit it fifteen blocks.