Gone with the swings

Soaring us through the sky

Gone with the slides

Taking us places unknown

Gone with the battles

With teasing boys and shy girls

Gone with the games

Of playing and chasing

Grownups in kid bodies growing up to be nothing more than pain

Creating battles of guns and blood

Swinging past a bruised life

Throwing words and knives at things best left alone

Of cries filled with anguish instead of play

Gone with the few scrapes

Of chasing your kiddie crush

Through mountains of sand

Gone with the nap times

With pleas of playtime

Gone with whispered secrets and small notes

Mark yes or no

Filled with wounds that leave you beaten

Praying for a single moment of peaceful sleep

From pure exhaustion

Secrets leaving you dead

And notes with notices left for the ones you love

Children growing up to fast to soon

Leaving childhood behind

Closing their eyes

Accepting the lies

Forced into labor

Defending their families

Killing their enemies

Growing up more than anyone would expect