Ferrous

Open bench,

The seat is empty but for me.

I sit bent waiting,

Praying for the next,

In my vision, a pair of feet.

 

And here,

I sit and smile �" watch her close

I relax and hope,

Hold this one so dear,

Another chance? One couldn’t know.

 

This ride,

Right here, right now, it’s what I see,

The future repeats,

Our pasts never die,

Dragged back, the weight restrains my reach.

 

We breathe,

We lift up, grasp the lunar span.

Halting before our hands,

The seat drops beneath,

I watch you fall, I fight to stand

 

I damn,

Hate the seeds sown, all the pain wrought.

Wheel turns back along

“Safety” bar �" it slams

And there, I wait. I despair. I long.

Author's Note

Alright. I admit it. This is not the happiest poem I've ever written. Take what you will from it, as usual, but take note in the imagery if you hope to grasp an understanding from the point from which it was written. Can't understand the imagery? Check the title. And yes, I know, it should be spelled Ferris. But not in this case.