In the heart of the South, where the phrases run wild,  
There's a saying that's tossed, by both adult and child.  
"Bust your britches," they say, with a wink and a grin,  
A testament to effort, skin deep and within.

It speaks of the labor, under sun's scorching light,  
Of fields and of factories, through day and into night.  
Where sweat beads like pearls, on the brow of the brave,  
And the clothes on their back, are all but forgave.

For to "bust your britches," is not just to tear  
A seam at the side, from wear and from wear.  
It's the spirit of striving, beyond what's endured,  
A metaphorical burst, of the strength that's assured.

It dances with humor, this phrase of the South,  
A chuckle that rises, from deep in the mouth.  
Yet, behind every laughter, there's truth to be found,  
In the toil and the effort, where hope is unbound.

So next time you hear it, this saying with zest,  
Imagine the trials, the ultimate test.  
For "busting one's britches," in labor or jest,  
Is a badge of one's mettle, in the South, it's expressed.

February 27, 2024
Created by
MarkWaldrop