The Melancholy of an Abandoned Playground
By Saywisely
1 min read
Mar 25, 2025
The swings hang still, in chains of rust,
Their seats are filmed with grime and dust.
The slide reflects a vacant sky,
Where joyful shouts would once fly by.
A carousel of ghosts goes round,
Without a single happy sound.
And in the silence, one can hear,
The sadness of a bygone year.
Their seats are filmed with grime and dust.
The slide reflects a vacant sky,
Where joyful shouts would once fly by.
A carousel of ghosts goes round,
Without a single happy sound.
And in the silence, one can hear,
The sadness of a bygone year.