The Bull - a poem I wrote age 13

Dust clouds billow up from the parched ground,

Noise from the crowd creates confusion all around,

The red flag provokes and my heart begins to pound.

They expect me to charge but I'm trembling with fear,

My watery eyes are beginning to tear,

The moment I dread is drawing near.

I am not the bully I seem to be,

I'm really as harmless as a honey bee,

I am a warrior longing to be free.