Go Karting

• James Rowe, Grade 6
• Poetry
• 2007

People watching me.
Flung round a corner.
Fly past my dad.
Thrown to the side.
Feels like someone pushing me into a wall.
Sirens loudly screeching.
Lines of tyres like punctured holes around the track.
Lights flashing.
Time to stop.
Slowing, s-l-o-w-i-n-g down.
STOP!