Poem 6: swinging

When I was a kid,

I would swing on a swing.

I would go up and down,

and that kind of thing.

My hair would blow in the wind

I would smile and giggle and laugh

I was always happy and cheerful

my glass was full not half

Now I am older,

yet not at all.

But, sill I am older,

and in my fall.

Everyone has a fall,

it is something no one escapes.

For that cute little kid,

their happiness the fall drapes.

The kid will be older,

yet not at all.

When they get it.

When they have their fall.