The Cowboy

The rush is in his arm.
From his shoulder to his hand.
The rope burning as he tightens it around all his fingers letting it rest under his pinky.
The power between his legs,
Thoughts racing through his mind.
The anouncer rambling on,
Music blarring,
His body stiffens as he nods his head.
The gate swings open.
The beast bucks out kicking and spinning.
He flops around like a rag doll,
Yet holds on with all he has.
Money not the only incentive.
Pride and fame have him addicted.
The dust is rising intensifying the show.
Two more seconds until he can let go.
The buzzer sounds,
The crowd roars.
8 seconds he rode,
Then down he goes.
His heart as hard as his fall,
He tries to get up,
But the devil has him beat.
A horn to the side he starts to crawl.
He will be okay,
For a Cowboy its just another day.