All around the circle
The children run around
Their faces turning purple
They jump, and leap, and bound

Slowly running out of air
The children gasp and cry
I have caught them in my snare
And now they finally die

Roses are red
My feet are sweaty
My knees weak
And my arms spaghetti

Trip or dive
Slip or slide
In the end...
Does It Matter?
Life is a game
In the end...
Did you thrive?
Or merely
Survive