One sits on a playground, alone
But not sad
Because he’s got his favorite swing
And his imagination to keep him company
And he thinks the days away
Dreaming of people
To help,
To heal,
To talk to,
To sing for,
To love.
The other stands on a pile of rubble
Looking out on a town that he used to own
Places he used to go
Fun he used to have
Not dreaming, just scheming
Thinking of every way
To hurt,
To break,
To shun,
To take,
To hate.
They stand across the landscape
Facing each other
Connected by one rickety bridge that neither can fully cross,
Always getting stuck at the halfway point
And always linked
As two halves of a whole.
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Author:
DHA (
Offline) - Published: January 19th, 2018 11:52
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 21
Offline)
Comments2
Awesome write
Musical. Great write.
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