Disclaimer--
I own EE... Just kidding... That's not the truth by far!
It's actually owned by Columbia, Sony, CBS and Tri-Star.
That's right big corporations own this wonderful show,
I write out of love, not profit, just to let you know.
Okay on with the poem...
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Who Was That Guy?
by Measer
I take a deep breath ready to do this dare.
Listening to my friends cheer without a care.
Waiting atop the stairs, ready to take my ride,
A dare to grind the whole rail, fakie boardslide.
Pushing off with my left foot, causing momentum...
Wearing protective pads because my friend Joe, lent 'em...
But a helmet is a piece of gear I seem to be missing.
I can't think about that now, that thought quickly dismissing.
I hop onto the rail with perfect balance and stance.
Gravity pulling downward--Chicken out? Naw, not a chance!
What a rush, I can't believe I'm actually doing this feat.
I can feel and hear my heart as it quickly beat...
Something is wrong, halfway down I realize...
My balance starts to wavier, I just can't equalize...
Oh crap... Joe's pads are a bit big for my small frame,
I'm beginning to wonder why I do stuff that's so inane--
Knee pads down to ankles and elbow pads slide down to wrist,
I can hear my mom's warnings about stunts like this.
Instinctively I flap my arms as if that enough to stall
my eventually meeting with the concrete as I continue to fall.
A guy rushes up the stairs with couch cushions in his hands,
telling me to hang on like I can listen to his demands...
He tosses the cushions in my general direction.
Two bounced off the rail but I caught one section.
I plummet to the stairs, but the cushion breaks my fall.
I look up at him and he looks quite tall--
Like the Flash and Impulse with super speed--
He saved me in my time of need--
He ran off after he asked me if I was all right,
Like Batman or Spawn off into the night.
Uninjured, I won't give that another try!
Wondering to myself, who was that guy?
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The End.
Email the author: Measer@nyc.rr.com
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