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Band Ten Hut (Other) by LintyWeenis I step out on to the field.
Every eye is on me.
Watching.
Waiting for me to slip.
I won't.
Not this time.
I march out in perfect step, relishing every ache that jolts my body.
It reminds me that I'm here.
It reminds me I'm alive.
As I come to a halt and put that cold metal to my lips
I smile at all the pretty faces.
Up the ladder:
The ABC's Of Adultery
Down the ladder:
Temptation Stings, Midday Nashville
Votes: (green: user, blue: anonymous)
Arithmetic Mean: 6.428571
Posted: September 13, 2004 7:32 PM PDT; Last modified: September 13, 2004 7:32 PM PDTWeighted score: 5.384202 Overall Rank: 3242 Comments:
[n/a]
LintyWeenis @ 152.163.101.10
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13-Sep-04/7:33 PM
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Reply
You probably won't get this unless you've been in a Marching Band before. And if you haven't, I hope that this poem helps paint a picture.
I can't blow horn worth a damn but I understand 'cause I play harp in a blues band.
No.
love it
Wow. Your own self opinion was almost as accurate as the anatomically fitting username you've picked.
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