Second Draft (Bad Poetry)

Upon the tee i firmly stand,
My trusty driver in my hand,
And just before i take my stance
And start to swing, I cast a glance
Ahead of me ah, all is nice,
For I invariably slice
And to the fairway's right all's clear.
I do not have a thing to fear.
This is, for me, the snap of snaps;
To left, alone, rough and traps.
And so, without a further look,
I take my stance, and swing and hook.