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A Game of Golf

A round yet not round ball there is lying on the green.
White hexagons cover, this small hard ball.
With a swift pick up the ball is seated on the tee.
A solid drive sends the ball soaring through the air like a draft..
Like a falcon it is fast and swift.
Landing on the ground with a quite landing with a swift of wind.
To keep an eye on the ball is a sure challenge
To hit the the target become a real struggle
The wind is a cheat it will change the ball with no hassle
When the ball lands you must hurry to go and find it.
For golf it is a fast pace game.
You must carry a bag that can be trouble
For the weight on your shoulders is a much more of a tassel.
For when you find the ball the game must continue.

This poem makes me...
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