Top of the World (Poem)

I feel free on top of the monkey bars.
Gripping the cold metal,
the wind wisping hair in my face,
the soft strands blinding me.

The sound of laughter drifting up to me
on top of the world.
If only I could stay here forever.
Dark clouds comfort me,
as they drift across the sky,
mighty and empowering.

My small hands release the bar
as I pull my golden hair from my face.
My balance becomes shaky.
Falling back I scream,
the shrilling noise silencing everyone below.
I reach my fingers out just in time,
barely grasping the smooth bar.

Looking down I see my classmates
giggling wildly as they spin endlessly
on the bright red merry-go-round,
completely forgetting my scream.
My eyes wander to the swings,
stuck in the same wave like motion.

The smell of rain, thick in the air,
fills my nose. A single drop falls,
splattering on my skin.
Just as lightning flashes across the sky
the whistle blows.
Kids run in chaos like it's the apocalypse.

I slowly climb down, the wind blowing
furiously, threatening to suck me into the clouds
forever. As we all line up in front of the school,
thunder rumbles through the cloud infested sky.
Other girls shriek, but I stay calm.
Hands trembling nervously,
my face a smooth, solid rock as I gaze up
to where I once stood,
on top of the world.