There was a cool calming breeze coming
off the lake, the smell of sweet funnel
cakes and the sound delightful
screaming were in the air. I was twelve.
I walked up the unfamiliar stairs and
stood in a long line on the Platform,
I looked up at the huge metal hill
with the steep sides,I was brave I
knew I could do this. I was twelve.
It was then my turn and I got to
my seat and was buckled in I was
trapped with nowhere to run. I was twelve.
It began, we went up and down then in
circles then upside down and spun in many
different directions. I was twelve.
The ride was over I had tears in my eyes the
beast had beaten me. I’m not as brave as I thought
to myself I am only twelve.
Twelve (Stafford Poem) by Ryan is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.