my little girl is terrified 

of carousels

and I could never

understand why,

she recoils at 

the very sight of them

as her friends go gleefully by.

she screams and freaks

and kicks and cries, 

we had to patiently wait

till she learned to speak

so she could finally 

tell us why —

daddy look at the horsey's eyes

she squeaks

and my god,

it's as clear as sky —

their equestrian eyes wide

with agony

their frozen cries

their silent neighs,

revolving here on noisey display.

and that maddening music, 

their poor wooden heads

the circular soundtrack to

the only life they've lead,

it would fill anyone, anywhere

with the most absolute dread —

and that’s why we avoid

the merry-go-round 

and ride the swings

instead.