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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.


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