They supposed me enough apropos,
Enough rigid ball to shoot the targets down,
They never knew I was just a Wiffle,
With fake but beautiful cutouts around,
Was unable to reach that port,
Just when wind breezes so strong,
Could be wrecked up with ease,
Never matters how’s good enough the prong.
They expected a bit much from me,
Hence, Catastrophe was inevitable to arrive,
Don’t expect so high from me, folks,
Making me constrained to suspire and hard to survive.
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