The Swing

The Swing

March 13, 2018 Poetry 1

It called out to her

the shiny red seat

dangerously it hung

from the rusty grey



Eagerly she climbed on

curious about this

new experience

she giggled adorably

Lost of all seriousness


Her dainty little legs

swung back and forth

like a clock

tick tock, tick tock

slowly the pendulum

moved faster and faster

higher and higher


Oh she was elated!

that dear little soul

for the wind on her face

was exhilarating

she wanted it to

never stop

never go down


The swing had other plans


and flew up and above the structure

she panicked and

cried out

suddenly the sky

and the ground

switched places


The swing soared

a full 360

she was


she was


hadn’t seen much



And finally the worst part

where the rollercoaster sat

at the top

where the storyteller hesitated

before a scare

where the victim tried to dodge

the gunshot


Where the girl on the swing

created chaos in midair

her hands slid off the chains

her bottom literally

jumped out of its seat

the swing

the one with a mind of its own

kept going up, wrapped around

its home

But the girl?

she flew into the air

like a bird




But little did anyone know

her fear, her pain

the discord swirling inside her head

the expectancy of

the painful fall


and she couldn’t do anything

about it


Pain shot from

the bottom up

she’s crying on those woodchips

crying about her failure

regrets her



For now

she suffers alone,

a consequence of

her foolish eagerness


That stupid swing! she yelled


It hurts so bad. she cried


Why? she asked



As she lay there, weeping

the bright sun glared at her

and she was tormented further

but then a shadow cast over her

blocking the outside world


She looked up curiously

tears still streaming down her face

a friendly smile

charming eyes

a boy looked back at her


his hand reached down

that smile kept constant

was he mocking her?

Do you need help? He inquired

No, he was being polite

why did she assume the worst


Reluctantly she took his hand

and smiled back up at him

suddenly the swing didn’t seem

so evil

it just needed to be controlled


She wouldn’t let the swing

control her

she would control

the swing


Looking back at the boy she

regarded him skeptically

Will you push me this time?

she requested


And she climbed back on, determined


This one is a little long, but the message I deliver is quick and short. Life is manipulative, cunning. It will make you think you are winning and let you down in the worst of times. Your job is to allow other people to help you, so that you are controlling life, not the other way round.




One Response

  1. bsf says:

    wowow this is great

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