A Musing Meant Park

There they were, the loose group of students
swinging in the dangerous cartridge
of a Ferris-wheel.
They gazed over the developed land
quoting famous authors.
They walked around flashing bulbs,
neon coated glory,
happy people everywhere
screaming and laughing.
Their favorite was
the spinning wheels
they got to turn
and turn and turn.
They were safe
thanks to strings
puppeteered by the fancy engineered
machine meant to
excite them.

Use your voice

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