My beau

Swaddled me in the bruises and pain

that tought my body to try again.

You told me to keep my head held high

even when I no longer wanted to try.

I feel your music ounding through me

like the thumps of my heart that continue to beat.

My sport I thank for giving me my confidence

that pushes me to be triumphant.

I can think of no other that has chained me to a passion, 

for there is no other of which I can ration.

So thank you baton for gliding in my hand,

while I dance to the music that plays by the band.

Though you are not caressing like the feathers of my pillow,

you are forever my love, my beau.