The Playground

   

The Playground

For Wendy, the one who loved Pan

 

 

Tired springs of broken horses,

in the playground of my mind.

 

I die, you die, she dies…

Is there a horse in there for me?

 

In the sand box some are playing,

on the swing there…two are swinging.

 

Yet, by the fence, I stand alone.

 

Up the ladder, three are climbing,

then sliding through the wind I see.

 

But, there, upon a see-saw sitting,

one lost girl who waits for me.

 

From the fence, I walk up to her…

 

Hello girl, my name is lonely,

I’ve been standing by the fence.

 

Would you like to play she beckons?

Climb up on the other side.

 

Up and down, it’s so exciting,

in the playground of my mind.

s.a.

 

 

 

Reviews

[zendikar]

wow what a great write! i very much enjoy reading your works!