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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2214537-Downhill-Racer
by Norman
Rated: E · Poetry · Entertainment · #2214537
The snow was soft and new that day
Nothing ventured, nothing gained,
or so the saying goes.
But you can do yourself some harm,
as everybody knows.

The snow was soft and new that day,
a perfect time to ski.
A lesson would take time away.
Hey, how hard could it be?

I thought that I’d give it a shot.
I said, “What could go wrong?”
Then everything just went to hell;
it didn’t take too long.

There was a diamond on the sign,
but that didn’t stop me, no.
I thought if it was dangerous
it would have told me so.

I don’t know just what happened next,
my mind is still a mess.
My head is scrambled up inside.
I’m lost; I must confess.

I hit a tree, of that I’m sure;
I still can feel the blow.
Yeah, I was moving much too fast;
that tree was moving slow.

Of course that tree stood in my way
and didn’t move at all.
Then I collided at full speed,
like hitting a brick wall.

When I came to, I looked around,
not sure of where I was.
In fact it was much worse than that;
my head was filled with fuzz.

They say that I was doing well -
I was a mogul king.
‘Till I took air and hit that tree.
It really was something.

My skis went flying off my boots,
I couldn’t find my hat.
One pole was almost bent in half.
I’d need to replace that.

The next time I will not be rash;
I’ll take the bunny slope.
That’s if I ever ski again.
Well, one can only hope.

But maybe I should just give up.
Yeah, maybe call it quits.
‘Cause if I hit another tree
I’ll lose more of my wits.

Skiing can be lots of fun,
but maybe not for me.
Hang gliding may be my new sport.
Sure, how hard could that be?
© Copyright 2020 Norman (jimmynee at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2214537-Downhill-Racer