merry
go round.
his own
plastic horse, blonde
with a mane braided
in rows of brown
and gold,
everything gleams
in the carnival lights,
bulbs
flashing like
candy.
the ping of music,
worn and out
of tune,
is haunting, as you
go around and around,
staring
at your parents on the side,
waiting patiently
for you to grow.
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