You pant and gasp, a symphony of sounds,
And you run helter-skelter, round and round,
Then when they’re up you feel like pulling them down.
They rise higher, and tug at your string,
You release more, and seeing them flying,
You can’t help but find them absolutely charming,
And yet the moment is so fleeting.
Finally the string is no more,
You let go, and let them soar,
With their every twist, your heart is sore,
And your soul worries to its very core.
One falls down, the other is torn
A few rise, like fairies of lore;
You may rejoice, or you may mourn,
But one thing is sure- you think of them forever more.
