Childhood Memory

The swing is still in the quiet playground,
a solitary object in the glade.
The absence of laughter is painful,
leaving fading echoes of sparkling peals.

Even the breeze cannot relieve,
the loneliness of the thing
that yearns for the innocence-
that which is lost is gone forever.

That which is gone is lost forever.

3 April 2006

Wrote this during gp today;p