Mirage.

ambitions.

On the swing,

Up she goes.

A cry of mirth,

Her eyebrows squinted,

What is that glitter?

Is it gold?

Is it, at the end of the rainbow?

She soars, higher and higher.

Her hand outstretched,

To caress the worldly wealth.

Gravity, however has other plans.

She sinks down and down,

Her head returning from the clouds,

Her feet touching the sweat soaked soil.

She is disappointed,

Looks scornfully at her father,

"One more time, Papa.

And this time, higher and more."

The exhausted father,

Tirelessly pushes.

A crinkled smile,

Along his wrinkles.

If he aimed for the moon,

Surely his darling,

Would land

On the stars?