Hey, so something a lot of people don't know about me is that i absolutely love Archery and everything it entails, i think its pretty darn awesome, anyway hence the basis of this poem. Enjoy! Comment or vote if you like it, your comments are welcomed :)
Target Practice
it's the last round
only two of us left standing
one chance winner takes all
bows in hand we prepare to fire
this is it, this is the end
only one shot
i can't afford to screw this up
i miss and i'm finished
they're all watching, waiting
to see who the best is
their anticipation their eagerness
it's almost to much
my fingers, slick with sweat
as i draw back my arrow
my hand trembles slightly
my mind races
so many are counting on me
this shot could mean my freedom and happiness
or my sorrow and despair
i can't let them down i won't
breathing in i focused on my goal
the one thing that could bring joy to me and my people
and for those few seconds
eveyone seems to hold their breath
i set my stance
raised my bow and let the arrow fly
fly straight at its target
bullseye, I win.
