Victory

(I took Kitties edvice to write about something real. Let me know what you think.)

I stare across the field,
target in sight.
Coming fromthe right,
another to the left.
No time, have to throw.
I release, but to that I'm blind.
Been hit from both sides.

Incomplete,
target missed.
Three seconds left,
clock has stopped.
One last chance,
one final play,
now or never.

The snap is called,
the ball in my hand.
Times out, it's the end.
Sweat on my brow
shirt and palms.
I give it all I have,
every ounce of my soul.

The ball is up,
though I'm down.
Still I watch,
my fingers crossed.
It comes down,
the crowd cheers,
victory is ours.

*applause* Definately real.

I loved how you get easly pulled in your poem and how you can't help reading it faster and faster puting more enthusiasm in it everytime.
Keep it up Piepieman.

Tessa T.

Very good, my friend, and I'm so pleased that you decided to give it a go. The rhythm is very fast which adds a lot to the poem and I like the continuous metaphor you've used. I think some parts of it could be re-worded so that it's clearer and in some places a word could be added or removed, just to enhance that flow you have but in general I really like it. Here's a few suggestions -

I stare across the field,
my target in site. [Site should be sight and perhaps it would be smoother as
'I stare across the field;
target in sight.]
One at the right, [I'm not so sure about this. 'One' is a bit too vague and initially seems to be referring to the target. Perhaps 'Enemy at the right' would work better?]
another from the left. [Maybe 'another to the left.']
No time, have to throw. [I think the end of this stanza could be improved. Perhaps
'No time. I throw, release
and pray blind judgement
proves true.
Impact at both sides.]
I release, but to that I'm blind.
Been hit from both sides.

Incomplete,
I missed my target.[Maybe
'Incomplete -
target missed.]
Three seconds left,
clock has stopped.
One last chance,
one final play,
it's now or never. [And perhaps
'one final play -
now or never.']

The snap is called, [Perhaps this is a direct reference to rugby (I presume that's the sport they're playing) but it doesn't make much sense to me...]
the ball in my hand.
Times out, it's the end. [This line could be stronger and it might run better as 'Out of time; the end is nigh.']
Sweat on my brow,
shirt, and palms. [No need for a comma after shirt.]
I give it all I have,
every ounce of my soul.

The ball is up,
though I'm down.
Still I watch,
my fingers crossed.
It comes down,
the crowd cheers,
victory is ours. [A simple but effective ending that makes the rest of the poem clear. Very nice.]

Overall, a well written poem that you could add more imagery to but in general I think you've done well.