The Playground
This will be a selection of poems about a playground, at night, during the day, and maybe some other way.
The Playground At Night
Creeping figures look at me
I gently step forwards
To properly see
Wind give the swings a harsh shove
The chains make horrid dying screams
Shrieking and creaking in the dark
A see-saw sniggers by my side
A teasing voice enters my mind
He laughs so cruelly because I'm alone
A circlular surface is before me
A vomit enducer when I go on it
The round-a-bout taunts me in the dark
Gleaming silver against the slide
The moon blesses it's shape but burns my skin
The chute is silent with a wicked stare
I cower in the darkness
Away from the evils
The hidden danger
The moon is so painful
Bright in the sky
Its beauty is slowly making me die
My skin turns to ashes
The playground awakes
They laugh and they cackle
Until the day breaks
This will be a selection of poems about a playground, at night, during the day, and maybe some other way.
The Playground At Night
Creeping figures look at me
I gently step forwards
To properly see
Wind give the swings a harsh shove
The chains make horrid dying screams
Shrieking and creaking in the dark
A see-saw sniggers by my side
A teasing voice enters my mind
He laughs so cruelly because I'm alone
A circlular surface is before me
A vomit enducer when I go on it
The round-a-bout taunts me in the dark
Gleaming silver against the slide
The moon blesses it's shape but burns my skin
The chute is silent with a wicked stare
I cower in the darkness
Away from the evils
The hidden danger
The moon is so painful
Bright in the sky
Its beauty is slowly making me die
My skin turns to ashes
The playground awakes
They laugh and they cackle
Until the day breaks