The Strut
I met you for the first time in the parking lot off Main St.
You were there every day,
Or perhaps it was someone who looked like you.
I hated the sight of you.
You see, back then I was a mere lad.
Just a young boy ready for the world.
But then you showed up.
You strutted about the parking lot,
Guarding the gates of daycare.
I was a target for your wrath.
You glared at me with those beady eyes,
That crooked neck.
Snatched at my sandwiches,
And launched at my chips.
You terrified me.
Every day was a struggle.
You were my constant fear.
Dread set days filled my daycare calendar,
And you were the source for each one.
“Be a man!” my father would say.
“Don’t be afraid.” my mother would say.
But how could I not?
I think you enjoyed it.
I get a laugh from my friends.
A shameful look from my teachers.
Eventually, there comes a time when you’ve had enough.
And I had enough of your strutting.
The day rolls round and there you are,
Waiting in the parking lot off Main St.
You strut closer to me,
But I stand my ground.
No feared walk backs today!
I lunge forward with fury and you fly away.
The sky swallows your fading flight,
And takes my fear away with it.