What A Day ( Poem Of A Year )

It isn't nice like anything else, you've got rain, usually sounded choo, choo train, actually is not much pain inside the mechanic chest, playing American baseball game, at least wouldn't be postpone and cancelled either day, what thought the drenched of rain has stopped like a minute or to, running onto the nastiest mud and crud everywhere then here, at the time slip and slide to first plate, and toward to the second plate right through it, forward the third plate even dirtier then ever, especially the Homeplate can be a little bit rough on the spot, the northwestern sky was clear and decent, some tiny and little clouds came in handily, poetical sunlight has shining away, it happens

Written by
Michael James Brindley
4-6-19