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Synesthesia
The crack of the bat makes me feel warm inside.
“Stop your daydreaming right now!” my coach replied.
The colors of the fans cheering filled my vision.
I couldn’t see at all until the collision.
I smelt defeat in the midst of that awful play.
I realized then there would be a price to pay.
I started to see black and heard a racing train.
I then understood there was no game without pain.
The pain turned into a bitter taste on my tongue.
“You will be alright,” they shouted. “You are still young.”
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