My Sons Spot

Dipping, diving and rising to tremendous height

Head starts spinning stomach is tight

I can’t hear a thing beyond the grinding of my teeth

But I feel clamp to rail from underneath

A cork-screw A loop

And coming up soon is a thing we call truth

I fly along the rails and reach for a higher place

What brings me back down is the three others face

So I grab my belt tight and scream to the sky

And it releases a pressure but with no reply

I can’t hope anymore that this ride won’t make me sick

I can assure I’ll hold on for what makes me tick

As this roller-coaster ride has taught me so well

You ride it, fall off or just say “what the hell”

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