Faux Pas Over a Fortnight

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Welcome to the favorite game
Of boys and girls who crave the fame
Of lust and joy caught in a grasp
And trickery of naïve lapse.

Here I stand, up at the plate,
Arms in stance, awaiting fate;
He throws the ball, I blow a kiss,
But the Good Lord knows I'm destined to miss.

Is logic playing games with you?
You seem to dodge the questions
I volley in your direction.
Can the world be so cruel
To a young, lighthearted fool,
With too much wit to say aloud
That it flows out from my mouth?

Cast a shadow
So I can lay down my crown in it,
Because at 12:32 am,
My pride falls to the blade.

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