UMU 07: Hula Hoops

We played with hula hoops, like 7 year olds would.

Started off with playful screaming and yelling who was better. 

Teased one another about how we hula hooped. 

I would sometimes grab yours and you would grab mine.

I made the game harder. By making us jump through the hoops.

The one who did the most would win. 

I made you take the first jump.

I held the hoop as you kept jumping through and through. 

Never wanting to quit. Determined to win. 

I got tired of holding the hoop and complained and whined about it. 

Worried, you stopped. 

You held the hoop for me. 

I began to jump through. 

Not even getting half the amount of your leaps of passion, I started to complain.

How everything that I did was a pain. 

All while you were still sweating and aching from your vaults. 

Concerned, you let me stop. 

Angered by pure selfishness, I made you jump through the hoops again. 

Not soon after, I tired again. 

Toxic, I made it more difficult for you. 

I made you hold the hula hoop and spring through. 

And so all I truly did was make you leap through the hoops while I did nothing. 

You soon grew tired. Not of the game but of me. 

No longer did you want to leap. No longer was it any fun and cheerful. 

And so you set down the hoops and skipped away. 

Letting me finally make the leaps.