Here’s a Bit of a Rattle Snake

I cried a little when Bob told Ritchie "Don't be such a dreamer."

Because I envisioned peace inward and outwardly:

Small planes refuse to crash, the good do not die young,

and a flying guitar will never break its wings.

As it stands, every gravitational pull wins at tug of war, eventually.

On occasion, my instincts encourage me to drop the rope and flee,

But it only impedes all movement when I stare at my opponents record.

Due to consequence, I close my eyes and listen on a Sunday morning:

"Every route has an alternate" and "Hope is like a good bridge, it goes a long way."

I let go, I run, I stumble, and I leap.