Fear Is Not Always Real
clip-clop, clip-clop, clip-clop
Running towards the first money barrel
The sound of the horse’s hooves don’t stop
Turn the barrel, hit the gravel
Reminiscing the first time I ever rode a horse
Turtle was his name
My fear arose
Even though he was supposedly tamed
As time progressed, my fear recessed
Barrel racing became my calling
For doing what I love, I felt blessed
As I felt myself evolving
Riding taught me that what I fear, is not always real
To this truth, I owe to much
This poem is about:
Me