Glistening grass in heavy morning dew

Golf balls struck straight and true

Rolling to the cup as people cheer

All for a chance to be crowned champion

The pressure mounts to the leaders demise

When the wind howls hope dies

As the chance for the win,

Has struggled and cried

Although the win is the least of worries,

As the great game is in the middle of fury.

Only to blame is the media men, and their fancy pens.

Hope for better shimmers away, but is trampled everyday.

The hope is lost in a world of lies

Filled with misquotes and spies

The ancient game left tarnished

Far from its royal roots