She makes the cue ball leap and dance.
The stick never quite connects.
Balls fly in every direction
And never find a pocket.
And that’s our life.
The passion of a fiesty steed
With a fiery soul
Causes her eyes and ire to flare.
Yet the connections never seem to fit.
The direction given and followed
Never seems to have a follow through.
Yet our life shines
Drawing out the best and worst.
Reflections of the past
Project on the present
And ricochet into the future.