My baseball glove is like a defense,
A protector to my hand.
My bat is like a weapon,
Hitting the ball but for good.
My baseball is like a rocket,
Ready to be launched.
My heart holds a MLB pitcher,
Myself.
I live a baseball,
Always traveling, always going fast.
I eat the sunshine of a perfect day for a game.
The pitcher of the game would be me,
Staring down the batters, picking-off runners,
Firing a ball.
Smiling as I strike out the batter
And he walks off in disgust.