Upon the giant wheel ride, I sat,
clutched the handle and crushed my hat,
With bated breath at what lies ahead,
I talked to myself about the bread.
Winds wrapped around me in winter chills,
As the wheel soared high towards the sky,
Who would pay for my bills?
I screamed wide to feel light.
My heart heaved when it took a dip,
I was afraid I would slip,
So I held fast to the falling grip,
Round and round, it turned into a trip.
Disarrayed and shadowed,
shocked and horrified,
I chastised myself for being so sly,
In vain, I have agonised my mind,
To surfeit myself in such a trick.
Farah Imam
Farah Imam loves to write. She lives in Kolkata, India. She has an MA in English from Presidency University.
