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Batters Up


I pick up the bat and hit the tree.
I feel the power ripple through my arms as I make contact.
The bat cracks,
The tree moans,
My hands blister.
I turn the bat and strike again and again.
I yell out from the pain in my hand, but I continue.
Pieces of metal and tree fly at my face as the bat shatters.
The bat is destroyed,
My hands are sore,
But the tree stands as tall as ever.
I collapse to the ground and shake.


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