First Scar

The First Scar
By Brendan Phelan, 9C
The glaring sun, the flowing breeze;
Both watching men that day.
All plants were green, all spirits strong;
A perfect day to play.

It all began when Grandpa cried,
He said, “Please mow my lawn.”
My bike prepared, my feet ensnared;
The lovely, charming dawn.

The lawncare team, we started out;
The day still bold and bright.
Imagination, though, my bane
Took hold, and I felt fright!

The fur was fierce; his mane was long,
He chased us down the street.
My heart was pumping very hard;
I could not keep the beat.

The sweat was running down my arms;
The beast was gaining fast.
I tried to push my legs so hard;
My hand, it slipped, aghast!

The street was firm, the stones were sharp;
The pain was like ten knives.
I knew my life was over then;
What horror Death contrives.

I looked up, bravely facing Death,
But Death was nowhere near.
Imagination was the one,
And only thing to fear.