Closure

For all it’s pain, all it’s damage, it’s the only way to get back to the joy.
We ask the guy working the controls to flip the switch, so we can get this thing moving again. He jeers at us from just below, throwing punches at our legs. So we kick him in the stomach, hard. Did we actually just do that? He lies writhing on the ground, but just yesterday we exchanged cordial smiles.
This ferris wheel’s been broken for a good while now. Everybody knows about him, he’s the crazy man in town, but what about us? Getting on the wheel just to catch the feeling of how it was, and how it might be again, to ride high. But neither of us wants to go up again, just to come down alone.
So you always get on in the car right in front of me. And I watch as you think about the day. Sometimes you cry, sometimes I can tell you’re happy, and sometimes you look back.
Today a man walks up-”Guys, we’re doing work on this here thing, who let you on here?”