A poem about knowing the odds
The Long Shot
Much like a snowball's plight
while flames shimmer sharply
and pitchforks jab the air
or the odds a bookie would slap
upon a conscience locked in
combat with a politician
and not dissimilar to prospects
Cubs fans have faced since 1908
whenever autumn leaves glow red
are the chances that today will
be anything but enchanting given
you and I are here, together.
