A girl kicks her legs while sitting on a swing,
unable to coordinate her young body to move forward.
Her small hands are wrapped around the chain links,
holding her high so she can only touch her toes to the ground.
Her stomach hurts and she frowns.
It always hurts when she tries to play, so she stopped trying.
A teen kicks her legs while sitting on a swing,
not having the energy to move herself forward.
Her bitten fingernails pick at the ridges of the chain links,
holding her now that she is far too exhausted to do so on her own.
Her whole body hurts and she can't even frown.
It always hurts when she tries to breathe, so she stopped trying.
A woman kicks her legs while sitting on a swing,
too sleep-deprived to move her body with enthusiasm.
Her hands that have written millions of words wrap loosely around the chain links, gripping on for the sake of formalities and tradition.
Her body doesn’t hurt anymore and she never has any expression.
It always hurts when she felt sympathy, so she stopped trying.
A mother walks up to a swing,
allowing her own child to tug her towards it.
Her actions are careful as she pushes her precious cargo,
cradling it yet letting it roam far enough to find happiness.
Her whole body feels light and she can't stop smiling.
It always was a struggle to keep going, but she never stopped trying.
A old woman is pushed to a swing in her wheelchair,
Her daughter urging her forward as her granddaughter skipped beside them.
Her hands rest lightly and carelessly on the armrests of her chair,
Relaxed and gentle as she teaches the next girl about her battles.
Her whole body feels rewarded and she always wears a small smile.
She never thought she would, but she succeeded.