The Mets Beat the Yankees 12 to 3
In Yankee Stadium’s hallowed ground
Where legends once roamed, their stories told
Last night, the pinstripes faltered, hearts grown cold
As dreams of victory slipped away, unbound.The crowd, a sea of navy blue and white
Held breaths, their hopes entwined with every pitch
Yet fate conspired against their fervent wish
And Mets’ bats danced, igniting the night.Torres swung, but shadows veiled his might
And Soto’s homer echoed through the air
Alonso answered, fierce and unafraid
While Lindor’s blast left Yankees fans in plight.The scoreboard blinked, revealing stark despair
A final score etched deep — a bitter truth
Yet still, they’ll rise, these Bronx Bombers, strong
For losses fuel the fire of their youth.— WOLRAD
(A sonnet from the Wolrad collection #354)
