Playgrounds

Nobody plays in the parks anymore
The slides go unpolished by the worn seats of children's pants.
The swings have rusted over,
metal giving way to the atmosphere.
Their function forgotten in a digital dystopia.
The trees do not protect families from the sun,
but a nice to place to smoke a bowl and fall asleep.
Green grass turns brown,
Like needles piercing your every barefoot step.
We see the glass shards cutting lesions into our conscious
hidden in deep in our place of relaxation.
The stumbling bodies have turned from toddlers to drunkards.
And the water fountains are stained brown,
stinking of putrid vomit and urine.
No, nobody plays in the parks anymore.
As culture rots and our innocence gives way.
The parks are no longer playgrounds,
But a dirty closet where we hide our weakest moments.
The trash reciprocals of a culture that has lost its way.