Short of Six

I was so mad at myself I began to cry
Shouting inside as the tears filled my eye
One hand on my hip and the other behind
I clutched my teeth and tried to clear my mind
What happened to the girl with confident strokes
Who took her place with careless picks and pokes
This wasn’t the way I trained or dreamed
I had her at five-six or so it seemed
Waiting to tie the set while serving clean
Until she pounced and punched the ball mean
Breaking back and delivering a seventh game
Denying me the chance at tiebreaking fame
I’m finished with this I heard myself gasp
It was even more than my own soul could grasp