Poetry from Brianna Dawn.

adults sometimes aren’t brave enough to ride the carousel of

with childlike hope
heads spin,
feverish dreams stitch
into hearts,
warp speed, time falls
apart – mirrors bend,
poor self reflection –
the music twists from
cheerful to haunting,
the good feeling stops
coming around, the horses
leave us behind, riding
out of town

written by Tiny Fawns for daily prompt: carousel 

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