Smash the maggots on the trashcan lid
Scrape the bark from the branch
And prepare for battle
Torn jeans
A stained t-shirt
And a face that can't show pain
All that is needed to ensure victory
A few quick swings
And soon you feel the sting
The tears start to build
As if you had almost been killed
Never before have your legs carried you this fast
And at last you're safe in your mothers arms
Some ice and a kiss makes it worth the pain
And as for the mothers wish
For you not to do it again
It will go ignored
In the next few years
She'll wish you still played with sticks.
May 12, 2016
May 12, 2016 at 8:34 PM UTC
Smash the maggots on the trashcan lid
Scrape the bark from the branch
And prepare for battle
Torn jeans
A stained t-shirt
And a face that can't show pain
All that is needed to ensure victory
A few quick swings
And soon you feel the sting
The tears start to build
As if you had almost been killed
Never before have your legs carried you this fast
And at last you're safe in your mothers arms
Some ice and a kiss makes it worth the pain
And as for the mothers wish
For you not to do it again
It will go ignored
In the next few years
She'll wish you still played with sticks.
My brother and I would have stick fights and they would always end poorly. Our mother was always there to comfort us even though she had warned us of the dangers. As I got older I got into much worse trouble and now as I'm even older I feel pain for the troubles I caused my mother.
