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Oct 2013
Chubby fingers
Grip large rusty links,
A small bottom
Supported by just
A strip of rubber.

Higher, higher,
Faster, faster,
“Look Mommy,
I can fly!”
And into the sky he goes.

His spirit soars,
While his body plummets,
The abandoned swing
Still sways.

A scraped knee,
A ****** lip,
Teary eyes and
A broken dream.

The swing had betrayed him,
Showed him the sky,
But when he jumped,
He could not fly.
my rendition of Boy on a Swing by Oswald Mtshali
He Pa'amon
Written by
He Pa'amon
722
   William, Lizzy and ---
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