fourteen+golf+clubs

I am the only one who lets them help me escape into my own little world. I am the only one who lets them help me escape into my own little word. Fourteen golf clubs with normal faces and skinny ankles just like mine. Fourteen who deserve to win tournaments but don't win. Fourteen upsetting excuses set in an encouraging golf bag. Walking down the street and hearing a tee shot; my best friend just walks and doesn’t appreciate these things as much as I do. Their strength is just a moment waiting to happen. They take ferocious divots out of the Earth with frustration of never having a good result. They learn to face the hard shots in life while having dirt in their cracks and to never give up. This shows how they win. Let one forget its reason for being, they would be nothing but a stick thrown into the fire; all fourteen surrounded creating a bond fire. Win, win, win fourteen clubs say during my backswing. They teach. When I am too sad and too mad to keep not winning, when I am a tiny thing against so many bricks, then it is I look at my golf clubs. When each shot goes left or right. Fourteen who grew despite not winning? Fourteen who try and don't forget to try. Fourteen whose only reason is to keep looking and keep looking.