Times have changed.
I am filled with silence. I miss the voices of youth that once filled me with joy. From laughter to the cries of scraped skin, I yearn for their return. My swings only move when wind gives them a push, but its like watching a ghost. My slide is filled with debris and footprints from scurrying children no longer adorn my sand. The deep green of my grass is everywhere, full and vibrant with no signs of use. I miss the feeling of shoe’d and bare feet upon my natural cushion. No longer do I pad children flying kites, wrestling about, chasing one another, playing tag or hide-and-seek. Students no longer sit against my trees, or cross-legged on my grass doing homework, reading a book or contemplating life. Football-soccer-baseball-kickball, none of it is left. All I have are my memories which fade with every passing day I am forgotten. I’m like a fairy tale, if no one believes in me I cease to exist. The past echoes to me, yet lately those echoes are softening like falling marshmallows onto a hard floor. Daily I watch children walk past me, not giving me a single look or care. I stretch my blades of grass to touch them, to invoke a flash or memory to remind them of who I am.
But it’s pointless. I am lonely, sad and depressed. Some of my friends have been torn down, upturned and made into concrete slabs. I await my fate and dream of years gone by. Perhaps one day in the future youth will discover my kind once again, but for that to happen the world would need to drastically change.
I am a park. A playground. A place for children of all ages to enjoy themselves and interact socially with each other. My playsets made of metal and wood are rusting and rotting. My benches and picnic tables are falling apart. Nobody cares enough to fix me. I am a relic, a has-been, some ancient form of entertainment not hip enough for today’s society.
I have been forgotten, replaced by technology.
Times have changed.
©2013 Craig MacLachlan