I am at the local funfair:
I am sat, strapped in a chair.
I can feel myself steadily rising –
My rash decision, I’m now revising.
Suddenly, I’m there, at the very top –
My seat tilts forwards, ready to drop.
I open my mouth, ready to scream,
But all is not as it may seem.
The fear, I find, I just can’t take,
And that is when I’m jolted awake.
That it’s not real, I feel so relieved,
And, once again, I’m able to breathe.
Angela Wybrow
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/fear-of-falling-3/
