Brave

I’ve climbed the red plastic summit slide, crowded high, and I’m realising now I’ve never known how low was low

Chattering children frenzied below

tired feet in tatty shoes, all seem to know

I don’t want a life that defaults to no

just exiting via the entry stairs, and so

I’ll follow my heart, hands on the sides, and go

Published by meganporterpoetry

Poet. Writer.

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