Sports Poem

The bull is in the gate
You lower yourself to rest on his back
He moos a threatening sound full of hate
You nod your out there's no turning back
He takes off you hold on for life
He twists you follow your body cracking
3 seconds in he's winning
Your hand is weakening your fingers cramping
5 seconds in your full of pain
Your body says give up
Your mind says I can win
7 seconds in your almost done
Your hand starts slipping
8 seconds in you hear the buzzer
you let go, fall down, stand up
Your legs are weak your body quivering
But you won that silver buckle
On your belt it slides
Another trophy from your
8 second rides
Surviving The Ride by Becky Reynolds @FamilyFriendPoems

Create a Link