The sun sits low in the sky
Shades of orange and pink streak across the endless horizon
A police siren wails in the distance
Laughter fills the air
Children run around the playground
Creaks of rusty swing chains
Sneakers squeaking on the slide
Clangs against the monkey bars
Snaps of jump ropes against the concrete
Rhymes and songs to go along
The song of the ice cream truck
Excited yells asking for a dollar
Tantrums and tears
Popsicles, push-pops, ice-cream sandwiches
The smell of sugar in the air
Sticky hands and sleepy eyes
Parents pick up their children
The crowd of families disperses
Until there are only two people
A girl and her father
Ready to go night fishing
Poles in hand and joy in their hearts
YOU ARE READING
I Truly Hate It Here
PoetryI been living in a depressed stupor for the past seven years. So I've tried to collect as much of my writing as I could find to try and piece together what the hell is wrong with me.
