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Bowled over the cruelist fate
#WritcoPoemChallenge
The sound of the stadium's roar,
Resonates with every four,
Down the pitch,
Over the arm,
Cricket has its own charm
Sitting whites in a beaming sun
A skybound six negates the run
Gathering tempo and to the fore
A sweeping shot another four
So close the prize, yet bowlers reign
Ten to go from only four,...