Ode to a Rolling Board

The stress – you could smell it,
The dust, rockite, and plastic
The time – you could feel it,
Ticking through skin, and spastic
Deadlines approaching, insecurity encroaching,
Critics gathered in a circle, reproaching

Doubt – it could always penetrate,
Into the deep crags of your mind
Rejection – it could always penetrate,
Whenever it sneaks up from behind
Terror is growing, tears are flowing,
Please don’t ask me how things are going

File by file and pushpin by pushpin,
We are marching ever so slowly
To the pit of despair that lies within,
An abyss that’s deep, dark, and unholy
On a floor of crimson – a square prison,
We stand and await the verdict
The lunch I ate has suddenly arisen,
Perhaps I am severely allergic?

But like waves breaking on the shore,
Fears come as fast as they recede
The storm may rock me to my core,
But I know my will will always succeed
I smile at the floor, I cherish the ceiling,
What is the worst that can go wrong?
I’m here to learn! And now I’m feeling,
As if I were my own worst critic all along

Ideas, ideas – you can see them,
As they ricochet off the white walls
Perfect possibilities – you can see them,
They fill these bush-hammered halls
I’m here to improve, I’ve got something to prove,
Just watch me as I get into a groove
Crisis averted.