The Swing Of LIfe

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
Although on the surface, the poem discusses swinging, plunging deep into the meaning, the character is attempting to escape from the suffocating fingers of society.

Submitted: March 28, 2014

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Submitted: March 28, 2014



My toes dance on the groomed green grass,
Surrounded by a shield of glass,
The wind tickles my cascading hair,
With the fingers of the summer air.

The creature looms in my eyes,
Its figure clinging to the clear blue skies.
I plaster in its metal arms,
Meandering from the world’s lashes of harm.

The metal chains rock me forth and back,
While my nose inhales the sizzling food of the cooking shack.
The plastic seat wings my flight,
Drifting me to unexposed height.

I am a bird, soaring in the clouds.
Whispering my secrets, for the first time, aloud.
I am a bird, dancing in the winds,
Abandoning the chains of all my sins.

I fly high,
Swinging in the sky.
Forgetting my fears,
That I no longer need to hear.

The sun soaks into the ground,
Whispering goodbyes with little sound.
I swing day and night,
Simply smiling at the sight.

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