I fall forward,
towards the ground.
I don't even make a sound,
as the impending outcome comes around.
The dust picks up,
which my steed kicks up,
in her haste to rid me.
And I tell her,
'Till tomorrow,'
and then I bid her farewell.
Author's Note: A older poem of mine, one of the first where I rhymed. As you can see, kind of rough, but, still I think it's good for how long ago I created it and it being one of my first rhyming ones.
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