There is much to be said for swing sets.
An impenetrable fortress that sits atop a mountain top.
Stoic,
solid,
it rests like a pigeon before the first due fall.
I listen and watch it rise and leave,
carried by the wind.

Oh, how bitter grief tastes,
like the saddened bubble gum,
chewing until you can chew no more.

'I am sick and tired of this,' she says,
mouthing the lyrics to her favorite songs.
She is little, yet large,
with a beak of gold and an air of haughtiness about her.
She is ridiculous --
a blue bird full of life and substance,
characterized by her emotions.

'What is to become of me?' she wonders aloud.
'What can I say?'

I am hypothetical today -- hypothetical and sad.
Characterized by my emotions,
and the color of my dress.