Pitcher Perfect

She fell in love with the pitcher in the picture
Read his stats like they were some hallowed holy scripture
This would be one card that she wouldn’t be swapping outside the school gates
Under her pillow is where it took pride of place

She used to edge on the sofa, serrupticiously
A sporting agnostic except when her idol came on the screen
If her family had really looked they would see a faraway look upon her face
As she was in a dream world, moving from second to third base

No one else could make out what she saw in him
Looked no different to any face on any other card of her collection
She swore that it was more than a crush, cursed it with the word love
She had fallen for her rough diamond, thought they fitted snugly like a hand in an oversized glove.