Playground


Broken
Toys and
A rusty swing, the lone
Survivor where children once played a spider
Sat, idly weaving a crooked cobweb
As a girl
Stood, and remembered what it was like
Before, when she was little and
Played in the woodchips, before
The swings were creaky and the lake
Flooded, and the dreams
Went
Underwater

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems


Share This Poem