The Playground

May 10, 2010
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Slides and swings,
i hate those things,
that children play merrily on.

The playground dies,
as someone cries,
within its very arms.

I used to climb,
and find a dime,
among these very gates.

But as years go by,
a piece of me died,
to learn of its horrible fate.

I started to cry,
as I saw my guy,
standing right next to the slide.

He gave me a kiss,
left my stomach to twist,
as he left with out a goodbye.

I gave it a glance,
but I think of the chance, he gave up to make me unhappy.

So I gave my goodbyes,
and started to cry,
because the playground is no longer happy.

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