randomperson333

Flags all twirling in the air, the bold, bright colors add some flair. Our poles are shiny, black or white, give a push, get some height. Screaming numbers, counting out loud, we love to make our high school proud. But I remember my freshman year, when tossing a single was my biggest fear. When walking and spinning is tons of fun, don't be surprised when asked to "strip and run!" When band music begins to sound good, and when you can hardly tell a tape-covered rifle is actually wood. Inside my head, the show music repeats, during school, after school, I tap my pencil to the beat. I get so excited with a new season to start, t

You've practiced all summer and all week. The lights are wicked bright you set your beginning stance. You pace your breathing; steady slow breaths. The music starts as well as your counts. You pray that you don't drop tonight your not the one the crowd watches fumble to grab your rifle, flag, or sabre. You perform your heart out with every step, on every count you proceed. Its the last set you pull the flag that has been hidden within the giant diamond. You hear nothing because you are so caught in the moment. The ending note trails off as you notice the crowd standing and applauding even some screaming in awe. For you i