Left Behind

At the park where we laughed, the swings creak slow,

a rusty chain sways in the whisper of woe.

Forgotten in time, where shadows once danced,

each rusted hinge, a story left chanced.

The laughter now echoes through hollowed-out spaces,

a playground abandoned, where dust leaves no traces.

I brushed off the leaves, tried to step back in,

but memories faded like the paint on a tin.

Once vibrant and bright, now colors are peeling,

like layers of laughter, beneath silence, revealing

that time holds a toll, a currency spent,

where rust lingers heavy in moments, now rent.

I sit on the ground, let the stillness resound,

as ghosts of our childhood spin round and around.