Daddy is Gone: Villanelle

This is a really cool type of traditional poetry. The structure here isn't exactly traditional but generally it's still a Villanelle.

Daddy is Gone: Villanelle
by Regina K. Pride

Our hand is pulled by the shadow
of a blue suit.
We relapse into a haze of cotton candy.
We stare back until it begins.

These are the structures forced upon
us, a child riding a merry-go-round,
Daddy is gone.

The journey around is long.
We see mauve monkeys, jade tigers,
our head churns never found.

These are the structures forced upon
Us, who keep composure until proven wrong,
strapped in our rainbow carts, practically bound,
taunted by the white sound
of twinkling clown music.     

Which course shall we take?
How will it spawn?

We hit a deep, deep crack
jutting out in the round,
flung from our roles.

Daddy is gone.

He isn’t coming back, as we’re carried along.
The ride seems never ending,
We are turning tables, spin off the ground.
We’re flying, yet

You know not why these structures are forced upon

Us. We contemplate the magnitude of bright light and sound
making our escape too quick, we fall back,
finding that

These are the structures forced upon us,

because Daddy is gone.

Author's Note

what needs to be fixed?