Poetry

The Man At The Fair

The Man at the fair
stands tall
trying to get a passerby
to play his game.
“Throw a dart
pop a balloon
win a prize…”,
He calls out
on his loudspeaker
as I am drawn in.
Drawn into his world
of colorful balloons
each waiting for
the deadly prick of the dart.
I throw many a dart
as my arm tires
and the money
slowly drains from my pocket.
After all is said and done,
the man at the fair
hands me a stuffed animal
and sends me out into the world
of other fair games
with various colorful prizes.

11 Comments

  • AMAN

    The poem really tells you about the reality of the fair. When we visit the fair, we want to win the things in a draw and when some exciting prizes are there, we are spending money to get more chances. At the end, we mostly get nothing as it depends on the luck.

  • maria

    Games with colorful gifts are good attraction for me. I can so play them to continue to accomodate them. I just like such games

  • Clarissa

    It’s not the prizes that we are winning, it’s about the happiness of enjoying the games. Fair can be so addicting.

  • Alex

    It is us on a fair. I have tried most if not all games. Around here a FERRIS WHEEL is a thing and I always ride that when I was a kid. I suck at shooting things ha ha. Very fun times.

  • Wilson Jake

    Poems related to real life scenario really makes sense. This is what one easily relate with. Lovely one again

  • Prince

    I have once played this fairs game and won nothing while my pocket wasn’t friendly again. Painfully, the man didn’t give me any compensation.

  • Rose Ann

    Oh, yeah sometimes we are lured by those color distractions in our life. We are putting every effort to win the prize. But never count your efforts to nothing, because there will always be something for you in return.

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