Tearing his shirt, Donald looked on with disbelief
His beloved Chicago Cubs had just given up a three run lead in the eighth inning
Reason fled and the fear of the curse gripped him hard
Instead of a celebratory beer, the bitter taste of hops overwhelmed
Looking away from the game, Donald wondered how much he could take
Leaving the television on, he went to the bathroom
Every beat of his heart echoed in his ears, but the anxiety began to relent a bit
Ready once again he headed in to see history being made, one way or another.