A swing slung low with weathered ropes
Worn, sun-beaten wood told tales of abuse
Once swung high - a vessel for the her hopes
Never once judged, even everyday a new bruise
It’d take her, accommodating her heart’s fancy
It’d carry her and cradle her fragility gentle
She’d forget her tears as she flew almost freely
Winds would whisper of a place far and simple
It’d scoop her up - made light of what seemed heavy
It’d drink up her laughter, release her captive innocence
It’d hold her aloft as it promised her safety
Together they’d immerse, in an intimate dalliance
Went on forever, as days turned into weeks
A girl and her swing, lost in their very own world
Alas the swing couldn’t offer the salvation she seeks
None could tell, what evil twist had brutally unfurled
•••
A swing hung limp, silent as it woefully wept
Its worn wood sang only songs of stifled cries
For once it knew a girl, whose painful secrets it kept
Now judges itself remorsefully, as she fades and dies
