The playground of life
My childhood was rare
Before the nightmares and fears
Brothers, sisters, friends
Running, jumping, climbing
Enjoying the freedom of being a kid
We explored the beauty
Of the countryside
Its creeks, crystal clear
Trees in abundance to climb
Sharing secrets with sisters
Giggling and laughing
Just playing in the sun
We did this in secret
Before mum and dad came home
Bothe of them working
To give us a roof, cloths and food
We explored in our own playground
The playground of life
We conquered the world
And swung like Tarzan
Pretended we won
A war in a chant
Now as I stand on the banks
Of my childhood field
I remember the laughter
And playing in the sun
And smile with a tear
Wishing I was a child once again
poem by Kaila George
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Related quotes
This Used To Be My Playground
Chorus (first time without background vocals):
This used to be my playground [used to be]
This used to be my childhood dream
This used to be the place I ran to
Whenever I was in need
Of a friend
Why did it have to end
And why do they always say
Don't look back
Keep your head held high
Don't ask them why
Because life is short
And before you know
You're feeling old
And your heart is breaking
Don't hold on to the past
Well that's too much to ask
(Long and movie versions only:)
(chorus)
Live and learn
Well the years they flew
And we never knew
We were foolish then
We would never tire
And that little fire
Is still alive in me
It will never go away
Can't say goodbye to yesterday [can't say goodbye]
(chorus)
No regrets
But I wish that you
Were here with me
Well then there's hope yet
I can see your face
In our secret place
You're not just a memory
Say goodbye to yesterday [the dream]
Those are words I'll never say [I'll never say]
This used to be my playground [used to be]
This used to be our pride and joy
This used to be the place we ran to
That no one in the world could dare destroy
(Short and movie versions only:)
This used to be our playground [used to be]
This used to be our childhood dream
This used to be the place we ran to
I wish you were standing here with me
(Movie version only:)
This used to be our playground [used to be]
This used to be our great escape
This used to be the place we ran to
This used to be our secret hiding place
This used to be our playground [used to be]
This used to be our childhood dream
This used to be the place we ran to
The best things in life are always free
Wishing you were here with me
song performed by by Madonna from Something To Remember
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Playground
I climb up, spending daylight
Slide down drunken on the other side
Some sweet girl, playing my wife,
Runs off with a boy whose bike shell ride
Playground (its a playground)
Marked by the masters and bruised by the bullies in the
Playground (its a playground)
Never stop rehearsing, rehearsing for the big square world
Bells will ring, door flings open
Hare and greyhound in the old kiss chase
Youve been caught, game has ended
Smack on kisser from her slap on face
Playground (its a playground)
Were marked by the masters and bruised by the bullies in the
Playground (its a playground)
Never stop rehearsing, rehearsing for the big square world
Watch the leaves all tear away (one by one)
Leaving you but lined like an exercise book
What did your report once say (know the one)
This boy must try harder to please
From down on his knees
Playground, playground, playground, playground, playground,
Playground, playground, playground
Brain gets bent, heart gets broken
You cant jump off once the page is turned
School is out but never over
Thats the only lesson you can learn
Playground (its a playground)
Were marked by the masters and bruised by the bullies in the
Playground (its a playground)
Never stop rehearsing, rehearsing for the big square
Playground (its a playground)
Go for the high jump if you let em push you in the
Playground (its a playground)
Theres no escaping, escaping from their big square world
You may leave school, but it never leaves you
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Childhood Is...
Childhood is hanging your pictures on the refrigerator, and tea parties you always have to cater.
Childhood is chasing butterflies and picking flowers,
playing with blocks and making towers.
Childhood is hating nap time,
and thinking everything is always MINE
Childhood is crayons and coloring books,
Playing hide and go seek in all the right nooks.
Childhood is falling asleep to your favorite lullaby,
wishing you had wings so you could soar into the sky.
Childhood is only crying over a scrapped knee,
or being stung by a bumble bee
Childhood is thinking boys have cooties,
or your mom making you wear itchy booties.
Childhood is ruining mommy's new leather,
and making friends and keeping them forever.
Childhood finally ends,
When you start to grow up,
And not having to drink out of a sippy cup
poem by Shenika Vermaak
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I miss my childhood
I miss my childhood,
Miss my mommy’s lap,
The lullabies that my grandpa sung,
The breakfast my granny prepared for me.
I miss my childhood,
Miss the brother-sister fights,
The way the small secrets we kept,
The days we dreamt of becoming someone big.
I miss my childhood,
Miss the friends’, who were never mean,
The teacher so caring,
The playground where we played for hours’.
I miss my childhood,
Miss my dad’s arms which did hold me and wrapped me throughout,
The chocolates he bought so frequently,
The wonder rides he took me to.
I miss my childhood,
Miss the tree where I sat for hours,
The teddy which was my life,
And the way you consoled me dad whenever I cried….
@copyrights reserved with Author.
poem by Jinal Oswal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A childhood forgotten, A childhood lost
[NOTE: THIS POEM IS NOT TO BE USED ANYWHERE WITHOUT MY CONCENT. PLEASE USE THE LINKS IN MY BIOGRAPHY OR MESSAGES ON THIS SITE TO CONTACT ME. THANKS.]
I can't remember,
Skipping rocks on the pond,
My childhoods forgotten,
My Childhoods lost,
Going to the lake,
Sitting on the beach,
Playing with friends,
or dancing in the streets,
I can't remember,
The crash in the fog,
My childhood was forgotten,
My childhood was lost,
The doctor doing surgery,
Me getting pills,
I can't remember any of it,
None of it's clear,
I still can't remember,
How it is gone,
My childhood forgotten,
My childhood's lost!
Well I'm gonna end it right now,
I gonna kill myself off,
A childhood Forgotten,
A childhood lost
poem by Dani Baxter
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My childhood
When I peep into my past
I remember my childhood
The carefree, wonderful world of my life
Nothing to bother, nothing to think
Lot of fun, lot of play
When wrong I did, said sorry to mamma
Don’t do it again was mamma’s answer
My legs ached after lot of play
Mamma would massage them at the end of the day
Who washed my clothes?
What to wear I never thought
Lot of friends
Hindu or Muslim was never the question
Climbing on the trees
Catching butterflies was the favourite pastime
Wanted everyday to be a Sunday
Getting up early I never liked
Sleeping late in the morning was my desire
How papa earns was never my concern
Brothers and sisters all loved me
I was the youngest in the family
I pray to god take the money and all the worries
And give me back my child hood
poem by Nirantar Dr.Rajendra Tela
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The Easter Show
The station wagon
Stood outside our house
Running on low
As we all piled out of the house
Mum and dad in the front
Older brothers and sisters
In the middle
And us little ones
Stuffed in the back
All waiting to go to
The Easter Show
All in our Sunday best
We waited patiently
As Dad locked up the house
Sister's giggling
Brothers trying to look cool
And us little ones
Jumping and shouting
HURRY UP DAD
Then mum hushing us
As dad headed towards the car
You could feel the eagerness
As we sat and waited
In anticipation of the ride
As we headed out
To the Easter Show
Then it came into view
As we all sat in awe
Of the coloured bright lights
Of the ferries wheel spinning
Of the roller coaster moving
So fast in the wind
Of the clowns in abundance
Handing out balloons
Lollipops and Candy floss
All junk food of sin
Patiently we waited
For the door to be opened
To run and have fun
At the Easter show
The best part of all
Was the laughter and fun
As from rides to machines
With glee we would run
Each of us begging
For a penny to have fun
With a smile and nod
Mum and Dad would say yes
As we shouted with glee
Onwards we ran let's have fun
In the sun at the old Easter show
Oh those were the days
Of what a rare treat for us
It came once a year
At the Easter Show
poem by Kaila George
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Children Playing
Children playing in the street
Dirty face and dirty feet
Skipping ropes and singing songs
This will last all summer long
Fresh air as there playing out
Keeps them fit as they run about
Games they play I know so well
As my journey back to my childhood dreams
Remembering the days no money about
All us kids just played out
Ancient games our parents would play
I still remember to this day
Skipping ropes tug of war
And playing tag I adored
Playing out from dawn to dusk
Happy were we school was done
Dinner time what did we care
With so many friends out there
Mum calls us in its getting late
And homely food on a plate
Slept like a log without a doubt
My energy all burnt out
Just what will tomorrow bring
Our gang is talking about building a swing
These pleasant days I remember well
Because many times in my childhood dwell
To see a smile on a Childs face
The world is a happier place
07 09 2010
Chellaston
poem by Jim O'Donnell
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Take A Good Look At Our Home Land
Oh people of America, people of America
Take a good look at our homeland
Do you really understand
Before you finish reading this poem
Do you have a daughter or son
Young people are leaving their home at an early age
Yet, there is a need for someone to be saved
Take a good look at our homeland
Many people are playing in the same band
Along the eastern coast of our nation
What do you see in the making?
Oh America, America, America
Why not be a complete free nation
Do you see this in the making?
For many years our country has been blessed
Now someone inside is making a big mess
Why pick up guns and fight against each other
Why not love as sisters and brothers
Oh something is going wrong today
People are looking the other way
Our POW'S have been freed
Is there another war in the making like most people believe
At Wounded Knee, S.D. our brothers and sisters
Want a little more freedom
Can you see this in the making?
America, America God shared his grace on thee
Yes he shared his grace for you and me
I want you, you and you
To take a good look at our homeland
When you get back will you take a stand?
Maybe you are thinking about playing in the same band
The only thing i ask you and you to do
Love your sisters and brothers
The way God loves me and you
poem by Leon Thomas Lee
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The playground.
We are the kids in the playground of plastic man,
Swing sets, sand pits, climbing ladders, down,
Sliding frames, see saw and the hide and seek,
The life and the play ground are alike.
Two sit on the see saw and looking at each other,
Going up and down, the life becomes boring rather,
If one gets down, the other will slam down faster,
In life's playground, people separate cooler and harsher.
Playing swing is fun for the sitting, not for the pushing,
Some sit and enjoy and the rest push punctually until the ending,
Sand pits are small, where we are not hurt, but get dirt,
A closed community, where has no space for peace and growth.
Everything that done in the dark will be exposed in simple light,
Everything that hidden will be shown in the soul flight,
Nothing is hidden for ever to seek, but seeking is a game,
Everyone of us delight, to find the lies or truth of the shame.
Everyone of us rushing to the ladder, crowded at the slope,
Not many can climb, never can climb, waiting with hope,
Then one by one to the top to see the glamorous playground,
Then sit and slide slowly and steadily to land on the sand.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What Cedric Said About His Sister.
Cedric followed you
around the playground
at high school
it seemed he wanted
to say something to you
but instead he just followed
you around until
as you stood looking over
at the playing field
where kids were gathering
in their break period
he said
my sister likes you
how do you know?
you asked
because she told me
he replied blushing
looking over at the playing field
isn't she your twin?
Yes
he said
going red
gazing at his sister
standing with a group
of friends on the field
you looked over at the girls
at Cedric's sister waving a hand
so that's Christina
yes
he muttered
the one with the dark hair
and waving a hand
then he went silent
and looked at you
Mother said she's too young for boyfriends
he said after a few moments
but she doesn't listen
she does what she wants
so she told me to tell you
she likes you
and so you nodded
and waved your hand
back at the girls
and there was an explosion
of giggling and laughter
and waving of hands
and then they ran off
onto the field
and as they ran off
you noticed Cedric's sister
had a cute butt
but you didn't tell him that
you just turned and said
fancy a game of ball?
and he just nodded
and said nothing more
about his sister at all.
poem by Terry Collett
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The Oddball In The Window
The boy sat at the window
Looking out at the other boys
Laughing and playing their games
Enjoying their childhood days
The boy hopes that they will cherish
Those blissful moments of youth
That have been stolen from him
Moments gone forever from his childhood days
He’s not crippled in body or mind
He’s not allowed outside to play
Those boys point and stare at the boy
They call the oddball in the window
His parents have imprisoned him
To wrap him up in cotton love
He is just to much a gift from god
He is their only precious child
The parents say it’s for his own good
He’s such a delicate child
He just sits at the window
Jealous of the children running free
He will never laugh with other children
He will never join in their games
He never smiles in photographs
He’s not enjoying his childhood days
He’s grown up now; still sitting at the window
His parents can’t get him to venture outside
Everyone passing takes time to point and stare
At the man they call
The oddball in the window
poem by Michael Micmac Mccrory
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I can't remember
I can't remember,
Skipping rocks on the pond,
My childhood forever gone,
My Childhoods lost,
Going to the lake,
Sitting on the beach,
Playing with friends,
And dancing in the streets,
I can't remember,
The talk I had with dad,
My childhood forever gone,
My childhood was lost,
I still can't remember,
How it is gone,
My childhood forever gone,
My childhood's lost!
By: Demarcus Reynolds
poem by Demarcus Reynolds
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Playing on the Playground
Everyone plays in groups,
They run across the playground.
Playing football or soccer and,
Maybe even basketball.
Girls running around chasing boys
And here's me playing soccer or me,
playing alone. Maybe always alone.
poem by Sengthida Lorvan
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We Would All Be Brothers and Sisters
We would all be Brothers and Sisters
In my perfect world there would be no war
People would communicate, and work their problems out diplomatically
All nations would be allies
People would wear smiles
And no one would ever know what a gun was
We would all be brothers and sisters
In my perfect world there would be no racism
People would be judged based on the content of their character
We would all hold hands
We would all be friends
We would all be brothers and sisters
In my perfect world there would be no heart ache
Families would love unconditionally
Lost love would become friendship
Friends would have no troubles, only fun
And no one would ever be lonely
We would all be brothers and sisters
In my perfect world there would be no worry
There would be no wars
There would be no racism
There would be no heart ache
There would only be occasional tears of joy
We would all hold hands together, as brothers and sisters
poem by Marie Souline
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Sweet Longings
A faded memory, of another day,
A flash, passed through my mind;
A vivid picture, of child's play,
A life, long since left, behind.
Take me back, those younger years,
Take heed, to that hiding place;
Take time, hear those distant cheers,
Take second, that stolen base.
Now my mind, begins to open,
Now the cry, of 'all come free';
Now recall, names once spoken,
Now up top, the climbing tree.
Running down, a shady street,
Running through the playground;
Running on, my shoeless feet,
Running after, the rebound.
Where've you gone, sweet yesterday?
Where lay, those childhood schemes?
Where the day, once filled with play,
Where the night: laced, with dreams.
Childhood's Sweet Song
Childhood forever gone
Just pleasant wisps remain
Close your eyes and remember
The bliss of young ignorance
Sitting on the worn brown rug
With Barbie in your hand
Your sisters on each side of you
How well you bond
How well you forgive
When you are young
Remember those precious days
For in the world where everything
Must all be explained
Where fairies can’t live in your hair
And kitty cats can’t talk
Childhood forever gone
And life sweeping along
Just continue to remember… childhood’s sweet song.
poem by Indigo Rose Christman
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Warming Brew!
Running in circles screaming and laughing, touching and reeling, escaping!
A burst of excitement, adrenalin courses through our veins heightening
Our excitement!
Our breath rises in vapour like a steam engine of old or a boiling kettle ready for a warming brew.
Life is a playground full of wonder, ready to be explored, friends loyal and true
Like musketeers on a quest!
These where such halcyon days, care free, untroubled from life’s pressures and demands.
worry was not an option!
Our youth, passionate, fresh, our minds racing and new, the world was seen so clearly!
If only we could see life through a Childs eyes in older age?
No colour, no race, no creed, no sex, no discrimination just oneness!
Perhaps this world would be a much better place?
poem by Shea Stagg
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Clickity, click, click
Clickity, click, click
~
The number of clicks
Those little groups
To which were forced fit
Into the adult world
No more bestest friends
Like a Childs playground game
Long since put to rest
In the pretence of professionalism
Into the workplace we stroll
And those clickity clicks
Outsiders kept at reach
Beyond the context of the conversation
Are we all in the playground again?
Grown up kids clickity click
Little games bestest friends
Don’t like the newbie, kind of strange
Doesn’t fit in, not this place
Not so much the childhood innocence
More the shame of adult ignorance
The way of work and at rest
How its still all a playground game
Pick your team clickity click
poem by Matthew Holloway
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It Was Good Then
I go back to my childhood
And images come flying at me
These water color memories
That have faded to a certain extent
With the passage of time
Fade no more
But become no brighter.
I remember things in
Sunshine yellows
And frosty blues
Minty greens
And lavender hues.
I remember smells.
Is it even possible to remember
Smell?
But, I swear I do.
Days had their own smell
Skin had its own smell
Sticky with sweat
From playing outside at high noon.
The grass, flowers, and air
Were scented.
By some far away perfume
Carried from place to place.
I remember the feel of grass
Between my bare toes.
I remember laughter.
I remember the gnarled trunk of
A tree under my hands and
Shoeless feet
When I climbed all the way to the top
And was not afraid to look or
Climb down.
I remember being a gypsy child
Going from place to place
Town to town
Without fear.
I remember making friends
I remember innocence..
I remember
Security,
Something I have forgotten since.
I remember
Childhood
Water color memories.
poem by Rabia Minhas
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