Unfit Swing
Once on that swing
I tried to hold on, to cling
Not knowing of the prognostication to come
I was naive, small, still sucking on my thumb
A figure, teaching me to rock forward--it was my mum
A big smile, I pushed and gave way to the wind
The proud feeling I got, that I was able to swing
From a distance, she cried
For the first time, we weren't side by side
No matter how hard I tried, now I see
The realization this swing wasn't fit for me
This poem is about:
My family
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: