His bright new toy brought him much joy
and we gazed with awe to see him soar.
Enjoying the thrills provided,
he happily swooped and glided,
high-flying through the cloud.
Then fear gripped the watching crowd.
In twist of fate, it was too late —
he knocked at Heaven’s gate.
Harsh death was graphic,
caught in air traffic.
Those tangled wings descended
and a bold young life was ended.
Some spice is nice, but do think twice
when dangerous sport appeals.
In grief, a mother kneels.
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| Writing Prompt |
The challenge is to write a poem that includes the words provided. Your poem can be of any type.
The words:
graphic - joy - death - spice
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