Batting The Ball

batting the ball that i did not hit,
walloping the volleyball that did not reach the net
swimming on a murky river
the boat that sinks
and the birds that fly too low on the mountains
their feet hitting the tops of the trees

dreams that do not come true
i am already forewarned
foretold, i have resigned to accept

that what is not best for me cannot be granted.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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