Your contents are now a complete mystery
Home to much of my childhood history
I fondly remember all that you’ve contained
But I’m not exactly sure if anything remains
Bats and balls, bikes and sticks
Quite the varied outdoor mix
It’s been a great many years, since I’ve been inside
I wonder what old secrets you continue to hide
Old and weathered, you’re still holding together
Over twenty years the guardian, of childhood pleasures
On a beautiful summer day, your door was always open
Now closed, blocked by a brink, because your lock is aged and broken
You were once a wonderful place to gather and hide
A clubhouse where all my friends could play by my side
When we got older and started to rebel
To your roof we would climb, with stories to tell
As a teenager, my interest in you faded and died
I no longer wanted all the whimsy you previously supplied
I’d rather lock myself away in my room
So you now stand in the garden, a forgotten childhood tomb
My curiosities starting to get the better of me
I wonder if there’s anything worthwhile for me to see
Would it ruin the mystery if I saw that’s within?
Or would memories return of a life that has been
Opening the door I feel a little trepidation
Hoping that the sight won’t be a big deflation
Maybe there’s a youth that I could try and reacquire
But instead all that I find is my parents tumble dryer.
Great poem, love it, and nice feet x
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Why thank you very much. I was a little inspired staring at it so I figured it deserved a poem. As for my feet…Thank you, the first look is free.
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hahahha, thanks think i cried a little laughing then x
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Ahaha!!! I’m glad you laughed that could have been a disaster and that was the tame joke. My other suggestions were worse.
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hahah i have a wild sense of humour so i am pretty sure i would have found it funny x
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Excellent. I shall save those ideas for the next time you’re checking out my apendages!! Hahaha
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