Post by Rackinac on Nov 15, 2006 20:20:12 GMT -5
Swings moving with the breeze,
So cold that kids would freeze.
Mindlessly walking round and round,
The old abandoned playground.
Dead trees surround the old place,
This place has turned to a disgrace.
Rusted equipment, broken benches,
Pavement covered with many ditches.
Sitting on a swing, swinging slowly,
Swinging both back and forth freely.
For not even I am too old to play,
On this cold gray Autumn day.
When people grow old and busy,
They forget how childhood goes quickly.
But some won't give it up for anything,
"Would you join me on the swings this evening?"
So cold that kids would freeze.
Mindlessly walking round and round,
The old abandoned playground.
Dead trees surround the old place,
This place has turned to a disgrace.
Rusted equipment, broken benches,
Pavement covered with many ditches.
Sitting on a swing, swinging slowly,
Swinging both back and forth freely.
For not even I am too old to play,
On this cold gray Autumn day.
When people grow old and busy,
They forget how childhood goes quickly.
But some won't give it up for anything,
"Would you join me on the swings this evening?"
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Nother short poem! :D Being sick gives ya time to think about these things... P.S. I love the swings! :D I feel like going to the park. T_T
Weee. It was fun.