I walk along the deserted pathway
To the place we used to play
Consists of metal and rust
the real beginning of us
swinging hand in hand
now just a foreign land
having picnics under the stars
who knew they would end in reopened scars
as kids we would play
as adults it wasn't a game
to see who would stay
they left the signs of fun and laughter
then how did we end in disaster
of clinging metal and squeaky chains
to abandoned pain
I come and visit our deserted place
just so I can remember your face
one last time
YOU ARE READING
Poetry For The Damaged
PoesíaPoetry is what feeds the emotions and expresses how people really feel. These short poems are the short meanings to my life.
