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Cricket Chronicles
#WritcoPoemChallenge
The sound of the stadium's roar,
Resonates with every four,
Down the pitch,
Over the arm,
Cricket has its own charm
But even a die hearted fan would give it all up for the warmth,
In the dungeon of the stadium, while there were only cheers of Joy, blotting out the screams of pleasure, he played her like a toy,
for he knew this was just a game, for soon the match would be over, they would go their separate ways never to be lovers, he knew not her tongue, nor where she hailed from, for they spoke no words, his thrusts and her cries their only mode of communication,
little did he know he knocked a six in her park a bouncing baby boy from his mistress in the dark.
The sound of the stadium's roar,
Resonates with every four,
Down the pitch,
Over the arm,
Cricket has its own charm
But even a die hearted fan would give it all up for the warmth,
In the dungeon of the stadium, while there were only cheers of Joy, blotting out the screams of pleasure, he played her like a toy,
for he knew this was just a game, for soon the match would be over, they would go their separate ways never to be lovers, he knew not her tongue, nor where she hailed from, for they spoke no words, his thrusts and her cries their only mode of communication,
little did he know he knocked a six in her park a bouncing baby boy from his mistress in the dark.
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