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by Xena
Rated: E · Poetry · Emotional · #2272579
Some are comfortable in the dark shadows rather than living in the pretence of lightness.
There’s a park in the city,
Lush with foliage and flowers
And wide open spaces to explore.
People frequent the space
Amongst the hustle and bustle,
It’s a place to relax and restore.
The machine of the city -
Never quits,
Never sleeps,
Never relents.

There’s an ominous structure
To one end of the park,
An abandoned energy depot.
One side catches sunlight
To warm its cold bricks,
The other is formidable in shadow.
The laughs of the happy -
Never acknowledge,
Never notice,
Never venture.

They come in their droves
To frolic and play,
Their attendance is quite consistent.
The park is a place
Where they forget the hard work,
That rules their very existence.
The pressures of living -
Never stop,
Never release,
Never fade.

I come to the park
Like the thousands of others,
To find peaceful and tranquil distraction.
And for the most part I can
Enjoy the parks offerings,
The lure of joy is the attraction.
The peace of the park -
Never fails,
Never bores,
Never ends.

The people don’t see
What I know is there,
A child lives behind the dark wall.
He lives in the shadows
And watches them play,
He’s seen one, he’s seen many and all.
The sweet sound of laughter -
Never coaxes,
Never encourages,
Never helps.
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