Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
I should be excited
yet I feel the unwavering fear
the thing I dread the most
the unknown

Count down the days
swift and sweet
say hi to family
as I move after they leave

perhaps this will let my mind expand
maybe my mind will collapse
I find the items
to let my stories grow

who knows how the ink will turn
or will it be another page instead

Count them down
3, 2, 1,
all pointing
directly to
the Unknown
Run run run
Always busy
but some how
through the chaos
through the hope

home is still
out of reach
So small
A concept few understand

The pink ones
Tucked away safely
Protected from view
Show times I was at the end

A small final act
For the life to end

However there is another
Shown out in a collection
Different shapes
All the same size

These are white
With writting in black
Company stickies there called
Yet busy work for me

Fold and press
Shape and pull
Small cranes take flight
Creating a flock on the desk

The meaning changed
From once sarrow and a tearful goodbye
To a ray of hope
Making me stay busy when work is down

Funny how suicide cranes
Became cranes of life
Sleepless nights
Early morning
Late night

Endless tasks and lists
A body collapsing
A mind running

Just count down the days
Till this rush slows down
Right before another begins
Oh to tell my story

One of triumph
One of misery

The one where the girl gets everything she wants
And the one where she is left with nothing

The one where I am happy to be me
The one where I hated everything I did

Oh to tell my story
The broken spite fuelled disaster success

Why that would take a lifetime
Are you willing to listen that long?
I thought of the impossible
concluded it was just my fantasy
A wish upon a star
and accepted it would not happen

but as I let the hours pass and the miles fly by
the silence of the lunch hour
the company for the 8 hours

I smile hiding the tears my heart wants to shed
holding up the wall I built so well
despite the cracks that form

I once more found a family
one that accepted me, for me
And allowed my companion to come

I thought to be just a dream
but the early mornings and late nights
the count down till a new change

and I smile
for once being happy
happy at work
happy at home
happy, in general
The roar of the crowd
only for a season

every event timed
every event judged

8 seconds
14 seconds
less then 2

all impressive in their own event
and many forget that the roar of the crowd
is only a tiny part of the lifestyle

Many hours
early mornings
late nights
working through weekends and holiday's

We all bow our heads before
praying we never repeat
that rainy day in Cheyenne

With live breathe and respect our game
but we never forget those that is took
nor the ones who got their start
in the Rodeo
Next page