When it’s raining outside I cannot go,
To a simple place that everyone knows,
But its hard surface calls me,
And its white lines entice me,
So armed with my racquet, I give in once more
To the dopamine, adrenaline, and my cherie amour.
I know every inch like the back of my hand,
39 feet to the net, that stands 3 feet 6 on each end.
I can feel it, before I can see it,
A winner that brushes the sideline,
If you called it out you’d be blind.
With it, I bring not shame,
But honor to the game,
And the family name.
The goal is to sell the greatness of my forehand,
To a college coach,
Like its name-brand.
Without it, I look for the next fix,
But I fail to find anything else that makes my heart tick.
So, forever and ever tennis it is,
Go ahead, test me on it,
Give me a pop quiz.
But I promise you it’ll always be my life,
For I am tennis and tennis is my prize