I’m driven down the old street,
memories made anew,
I see the old playground,
that was a pirate ship, a castle, a bee’s nest.
I can practically hear the laughter of the younger me,
my younger friends and family.
I can see us running from our imaginations,
and yelling to see who was the loudest.
I sense the nervous energy left to die in the
now silent swings of my past,
They are worn and ragged,
but they still have their souls.
To live on for the next generation,
who will smile and laugh,
joke and run,
and enjoy all their blessings.
On the playground.