It was my first real rodeo
At a little county fair.
I heard carney’s barkin'
And kids screamin'
The smells of livestock
And funnel cakes in the air.
I didn’t bring my family.
I didn’t tell my friends.
If this doesn’t go well,
The jokes would never end.
I paid all my fees
And I thought I was ready,
But how can you prepare
For a bull named Teddy?
I put my rope on him
And climbed down into the chute.
I nodded my head and said,
“Let ‘em rip! ”
Teddy bucked and spun.
I thought I was hittin’ eight.
Then I heard the chute boss say,
“Get up Son, so I can close the gate.”
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Comments about this poem (First Ride by Marc Thompson )
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