Almost everything in life teeters on a seesaw. It has its ups and downs, frustrations and pleasures; you play with your companions until you’ve exhausted your joy. Then when it’s all over your not too sure why you played to begin with, your sore and tired, plus the game had no purpose to it at all. But once anticipation and the desire for fun fills you back up you get back on the seesaw and play its game all over again. This is part of a poem I am working on that goes along with my theory.
The seesaw sits empty, meaningless, balanced and barren
It yearns for life to play its game
The child bursting with vigor and anticipation satisfies the seesaw as she comes to play
But the child is disenchanted; the elation she once felt is now smothered with distress
The child also yearns
She yearns for a companion to join her in this game, to lift her up and restore her bliss
She can’t enjoy what the seesaw has offered alone
As the boy draws closer her world spins round and round faster and faster
A rush of verve and satisfaction encompasses her soul
Now she can play the seesaw’s game
But her excitement has deceived her and triggered blindness in logic
As she sits restlessly airlifted struggling to force herself down, her elation is once again smothered with frustration and sorrow
The girl did not realize that the boy is too big to join her in the seesaw’s game
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