The Stand. A poem.

Just one tiny moment of her time.
Just one glint in her eye.
Did she look my way?
Is she thinking about me?
A lifetime of insecurities,
rearing like some untamed bronco,
kicking my ass before I’ve a chance to tango.

And now, here I am,
stupefied and indignant,
wondering what do I do to impress her next?
Maybe I could put myself down again,
or perhaps be less vexed.
Or maybe I could just retreat
with my tail between my legs.

No.
Not this time.
Time to make a stand.
Let me just catch my breath,
pull on the gloves
and listen for the bell,
before I go down for the count again.

For one more little glimpse of heaven,
and one more
tiny moment of her time.

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