The Playground

by Ares   Oct 6, 2008


I've seen what there is to be seen.
A distant traveler from far way.
The world is nothing but a playground..

The world is nothing but a playground,
where I'm the fattest child, claiming it mine.

You're the tiny kid,
with mud in your face and dirt on your hands.
You hair is blond and your eyes blue.
Though we play together every day,
I've never really known you.

The world is nothing but a playground,
where children play when I allow them.
Where the sand is always moist enough to form castles and walls and the mud dry enough to throw.

I'm the fattest kid in the playground today,
you're the tiny kid wishing you where me.
You wish this was your playground to control.

Somehow I wish so too.

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Latest Comments

  • 16 years ago

    by Goodbye

    This poem is one of your best ones. I love the images you painted on this poem. Your thining is deep and inspiring.

    May of poems always be a source of inspiration for me and others. :)

  • 16 years ago

    by Ed or Ian Henderson

    This reminds me of the notion of God, particularly this latter day build-your-own-faith that people seem to have. The concept of being the largest character, overtly aware of a clear definition of weakness and need, plays beautifully into the structure of the poem. So much of it reflects human existence portrayed as childhood.

    Whether you meant this or not, I'd love to know. But I thoroughly enjoyed this.

  • 16 years ago

    by Gabba Gabba Hey

    Oh. My. Gosh. This is pretty intense, a surprise, amazing ending. A great twist. What an amazing metaphor! Playgrounds...children..the sizes used,

    'where the children play when I allow them'

    that sense of control and the way it's portrayed is nice.

    It's a classic tale of the way people always want something that somebody else has, but they don't always know that the other person wants the same thing of them. I love it!

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