The night prior when sleep was dire
a baby stirs, the little dude, he’s a crier.
To bed at last, half past twelve,
up again, in my sleepless realm,
once, twice, three times more,
about this Q… I’m not so sure.
4:55, the alarm clock rings,
birdies chirp, angels sing,
that’s a lie, I hear only rain,
This cold wet Q could only bring pain.
A long rainy drive to Granite Falls,
I feel sorry for myself while my bed beckons and calls.
The roads are wet and the sky is black,
Oh, how I pray, that my comrades all have fart-sacked.
I pull into the Hurler AO, let out a long sigh and say “here we go!”
These Men breath life back into this shell of a man.
I shrug off my excuses and deliver the plan.
With inspiration from a cherished friend,
I whipped up a workout, on the gloom we descend.
As we run through the streets of Granite Falls, seven strong, standing tall,
we run around to stations abound, quickly jumping to the ground.
Planks, merkins, Squats, you say?
The beatings continue as the Men say “AYE!”
“Bring it on!” they say, “we want some more!”
Our britches are soggy and our legs are sore.
Our time has expired, to the flag we mosey,
Circle on up, get nice a cozy.
The word of the day is exhilarating, a beacon of hope!..
at least it was in my head. Twig says: “Is Fuse on dope?”
We bring it in, I stumble through a prayer,
Am I a writer? Maybe? As for an orator… my gift does not lie there.
Thank you to the Men who inspire us to lead,
The gloom seemed so daunting, now I’m invigorated, how can this be?
I head to my truck, my face filled with glee!
“Hey, Fuse!”
“Yeah, Twig?”
“Don’t forget our SELFIE!”
My head drops, I turn my back.
Really, Twig? A selfie?
I should have fart-sacked.
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