The Swing Poem by Gary Hembree

I swung on a swing!
Wanted so bad to touch the sky!
I pumped and pumped until I cried!
The swing creaked from the rust.
Up I went with glory in my eyes!
Yet I never did reach my goal!
As things go up things must go down.
I soon found myself upon the ground.
Out of breath.
Dizzy dazed like a paralized rat looking into a snake.
My brain told my body to move.
Like a broken clock it stood at a still.
A quick chill came across me.
Yet a warm funny feeling came from behind me.
It seems to pour out like a glass of spilt milk.
Tears ran down my face.
My breath began to take a rest.
I soon found myself touching the sky.
As I watched my body come to a halt.