2022/2/15 #poetry Hit the ball. It don't mind. Slam it hard. It can't cry. Smash it, whack it, whap it good, with implements of metal, plastic, or wood. It's just an object, made for bashing, it doesn't fear any sort of thrashing. As it's careening through the air it doesn't have a single care. The ball is fine no matter what, it doesn't feel any of it. Or does it? Nah.