Playground

Turn out the lights,
hold close your dreams,
watch the down-spiral
tear up at the seams.
Nightmares chase fairies
through years of decay,
sprinkles of wishes
put life on display.

Dig a hole to sit in,
pocket full of screams,
hope for all the children
drying on the beams.
Watch derisive laughter
break apart the shell,
then build it back together,
and say that all is well.

3.07.07

Reviews

[jerrypat]

Yeah. I hear you, Katherine. I hear you very well. Living life is difficult enough without the stupidity that surrounds us. And, of course we never learn from history, and history has plenty to teach us. But like a tired old mule with blinders on we plod along toward our eventual demise, making room for those who follow us step by step, making the same insane mistakes we did. This is wonderful gut-check poetry, my friend.