Prom night
She stood there all alone
Tapping her foot to the beat
In the back left corner pocket

The cue ball decided it was time to end the game of billiards
He spotted the eight ball all alone
Nodding his head to the music
And the cue ball called the shot
Into the back left corner pocket

He rolled forward
Steps calculated
Swagger restrained
Sights set on the back left corner pocket

He conversed with the eight ball
Talking to him
Coaxing him to move
Toward the back left corner pocket

The cue ball watched from a distance
Having already imparted all its momentum
As the eight ball headed
For the back left corner pocket

The eight ball was unsure
Dressed in a black button up shirt
With matching dress pants
But he continued to roll
To the back left corner pocket

He motioned for the girl to follow
And hand in hand
They left for the dance floor together
They left the back left corner pocket

The cue ball sat back and admired his work
The other billiards player left
Having lost to the usual call
The winner always sank that last shot
Into the back left corner pocket