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Image for the poem Broken Swing Set

Broken Swing Set

On that swing set
He came
Open arms, warm embrace
I was young
I thought it was play

Play structure dreams
These old memories
His hands on me
His fingers traveling
What is this new game?

Let me go, no means no
But I was small, he held me tight
Told me he had a secret
A mystery, a key
What does he mean?

Zipper moving
Floodgates were opening
He showed me his treasure
Invited my hands to reclaim it
What is this discovery?

I was running
He was hunting
He slipped away into the dark
Something was different, something changed
There was a broken swing set...
Written by Thetravelingfairy
Published
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