03 Aug, 2013 02:49 AM
Running, playing 
All the stuff just, saying 
Quiet like the gentle breeze 
But goes away like in a blink of an eye 

Swinging, monkey bars 
Just one more hold and your off 
Balance between the beholder 
Trees that move back and forth 
No more to be told 

Jumping, rope
To distinct paths yet so close 
Stuck between a crack 
Oops, you broke your mothers back
Numbers were that, they counted 
Just to be stolen 

Flying, swings 
A little of everything, so it seems 
Close your eyes and your floating 
Almost like a butterfly 
Carried off with the wind 
The plane, was to high 

Slip and glide, slide 
A second hand plane 
Left to guide you to your lane 
But wait here, your path is the destination 
As you reach the end 

Holes in the dark, tunnels 
Are left to guide you out 
These are the routes, just find where? 
The light is left to uncover 
Their homes for the wanted

Round in a circle, tire swing 
To much, puke with vomit all over 
Wind almost as a hurricane 
Waiting for the path to be taken away
Just a push, come on 

Laying still, staring up at the clouds 
Wishing you could fly to freedom 
Condemned to your torture, yet you don't know why? 
Well, you'll see in a few years 
I wonder, what did you think of, these years?
Tags: Childhood, Life
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