Commuting POTs #5

April 6, 2016 § Leave a comment

When I came across the playground we used to go —
the seasaw starts to waddle,
The midnight blue darkens.
As we lay in our fortress fit for 10 and below,
We began to be cynics of our lives.
As if we know it all, as if we had it all.
We exchanged tiny glimpses of our wandering eyes.
My stammering heart in its cage was yearning to plunge out,
But my mind was at ease with the soothness of your voice like the wind in my hair.
In that moment, time stood still for me to take it all in.

I replayed every second in a pause, and passed the playground.



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