Jan 2015
Watching swings in the wind
swaying, ghostly
sadly empty
chains creak with no laughter to drown the sound
it carries like screams
of all the children
who pleaded
to never
ever
grow
up.
swaying, ghostly
sadly empty
chains creak with no laughter to drown the sound
it carries like screams
of all the children
who pleaded
to never
ever
grow
up.
