Jumping Rope,
it was never something i could do,
or do well, anyway.
The girls on the asphalt playground
made it look so easy,
The rhyming sing-song,
i tripped over the words.
The jumping rope a giant long
obstacle
between me and the success i craved.
One girl on either end,
making great arcs with the rope,
in perfect tandem,
making the beat,
the verses,
It was up to me to merge in.
Step in,
i thought,
i had seen it done,
deceptively gracefully,
a ballet entrance.
Instead
a failed experiment,
my hair and shoulders ensnared in the
unforgiving rope,
scraping skin and ego.
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