nostalgia is a bitter town
its playground once plagued
with tiny giggling clowns
now swings a somber gold
and sings a soliloquy of untold
stories pinned to a plywood crucifix
the building which housed books
that usurped the position of absent tutors
are now antiquated password protected computers
and the potholes mapped out on my bike tires
are now paved over and the roads are called liars