A poem by Isabelle Sorrells
Rushed on with her friends,
They never gave her the time to say
How afraid she was –
How much she didn’t want to go.
They are strapped in,
She closes her eyes,
And the swings spin.
Up and up they go,
Above the ground,
Above the crowd,
Above the park,
Above the clouds,
Above the sea and the sky,
Above the moon,
Above the stars.
Up and up they go,
They never come back down.
Lost, spinning, in Oblivion.
Then the ride stops,
They slow to a descent,
And when her eyes open again,
They are on the ground once more.
Words Worth While 