Full Swing
Every game starts with the purest intent.
Where will I stand when it come to an end?
Whether dazzling gold or drizzling rain
We lean into pleasure that fosters the pain.
A devil on one, an angel on other
We shoulder the battle, be better than “other.”
A war fought within, contrasting objectives
One bite at the apple, we must be selective.
It gives and it takes, we push and we pull,
For what is our walk, no thing is dull.
A return to the house, the one we call home
Circle of life, together, alone.