Our lives are like squash balls

Our lives are like a Squash Ball

Our lives are like squash balls,
Impeccably black and shining logos,
An even bounce and raring to go,
When new, rightly obeying the player's strokes,

Not even a second passes between the knocks,
Akin to our hearts beating, a thud originates from the walls,
In the confines of the court, as the temperatures soar,
A ball now continues to roar,

Men anxiously strive for a distant victory,
One would trounce the other only to return for more,
The leather is wearing off, so does the color,
The squash ball is warmer like never before,

Shots become difficult to play,
A slowing ball defies players', and strays,
The walls are attacking it or is it attacking the walls,
Eventually the struggle becomes unbearable and the ball caves.