The Click

The chain caught and pulled us up the track,

and everyone went still and small,

the girl ahead of me held back

her breath against the safety bar's wall.

Below us the fairground fell away,

the world got smaller with each click,

and though nobody had much to say,

we all felt something turn and stick.

The attendant walked past with his hands

in his pockets, not looking our way,

like he hasn't watched thousands understand

that this is where we can't stay.

The bar locked down. We held on tight.

And then came the part we knew would come—

that moment right before the flight,

that second where we're overcome.