A quiet dare to every fear that said I shouldn't chase this thrill,
each shaky push a promise that I'd bend the board to my own skill.
The concrete hummed beneath me like it knew I'd come to rise,
and every wobble taught me how to trust the fire behind my eyes.
The park became my canvas, every ramp a line to trace my name,
each rail a chance to rewrite chapters where I once felt small or tame.
Falls turned into teachers, bruises into proof I showed up strong,
and every scrape reminded me I've had resilience all along.
I learned to carve with courage, letting motion pull me through,
discovering that age can't cage the part of me that still feels new.
There's art in every risk I take, in every trick I dare to start,
because there's always more to learn when you ride with an open heart.
I send my wheels on uneven ground,
fear humming louder than the street,
but courage sparks when I push off,
a girl who won't accept defeat.
I land the trick I thought I'd miss,
not built for crowns, I’m built for this.
7 year old skateboarder young boy with long braided Locs;
Overpowered by powerful frocks;
Skateboarding over wooden boxes;
fell hard, knees scarred;
Was impaled by a rusty nail;
Went to ER had a passionate nurse
She asked the boy which ouchy he wanted soothe first;
She was like penicillin she stuck a needle in his buttocks the, filled with a shot of tetanus?
The Skateboarder
Dr. James E. Martin
©January, 2014
A skateboard he tried to ride.
He didn’t there long abide.
It went airborne,
It did not forewarn,
He landed on his under side!
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.