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Youth
The chair seldom rocks,
The music has been thrown away
All the toys have been broken
And the laughs have gone away.
Across an ancient playground
Where the children once did play
I no longer see or hear them laugh
The Children have all gone away.
The swings they no longer swing
The trees stand ancient and bare
And the birds they no longer sing
For the children are no longer there.
I close an attic window
As I take off a childish mask
And as I think, the tears do flow
As I wished again, youth had last.
Randy L. McClave
poem
by
Randy McClave
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