Pride (an acrostic poem)

 

Popping his shirt in victory

Regaling his opponent with trash talk

It would make most people sick to their stomach

Doing it to his twelve-year-old son, well that was over the top

Extreme hubris was his specialty, and this was his teaching moment

 

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Top (an acrostic poem)

The room spun as he tried to stand up

Of all the nights, tonight was the night he had to drink the good stuff

Perhaps he should have allowed himself to bottom out instead

 

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King Me (an acrostic poem)

Keeping on top was always Bob’s goal

It allowed him to jump over the obstacles in his way

Now the playing field was empty of most of the chafe

Giving Bob a clear idea of who is real competition was

 

Moving diagonally, he finally found his home

Enabling him to kick it to the next level

 

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