At the playground

between the swings,

I knew deep down

Every human had wings.

 

When I flied up,

high in the air,

bliss was my king.

To the clouds

I would stare,

Sure I could

do anything.

 

But one day

aiming higher

I saw it

from the swing,

I would have to

leave my town

to break

from the strings.

 

Now,

every spring,

To the playground

I head,

when my swing

slows down

I look to

what it led.

 

Beside me

an empty swing,

balances only

with the wind.