In The Eyes of a Grown-Up (New Poem)

In The Eyes of a Grown-Up

Your Crocs slippers crunches on the grass

that needs the haircut of a snazzy prince.

An old song is replayed multiple times

as familiar melodies travel from your earphones

till you feel like singing in this isolated place.

Your eyes shortly scan around the area

like a security camera spying at 360 degrees.

You will see a film screen appearing in your head;

it shows a series of flashbacks

that is hidden somewhere in your memory for ages

like a lost treasure.

Your conscience will scold you

for not remembering those childhood times.

Good heavens! Don’t you remember the colourful swings you used to sit on?

What about those skinny wooden see-saws?

You had to push your feet to give yourself a boost up in the air.

Or that giant round structure where you liked to spin around like tops

with other kids who smile at you like friends?

How could you ever abandon those glimpses

when your mother stood at a corner

watching you like a hawk

while sharing small talks with neighbours?

And goodness gracious!

Where in the world is that big metal slide?

You used to throw your hands high like a monkey

as your body slid down that shiny silver panel.

And not to mention that incident

when you stood on top of of the slide for half an hour or so

because you were scared of a creature that was eyeing at you as dinner.

Was it a dog...or was it a snake?

Oh! You were so terrified you were crying for your mother

to leap up in midair like Wonderwoman to carry you off.

It’s a pity that the slide is gone…

You will feel an icy breath crawling in your heart

like Narnia’s White Queen’s voice slithering through your skin.

The playground itself is untouched.

Every colour, every single patch of ugly brown rust

are remained on the structures.

The rainbow-painted toys are so good to re-encounter,

but the atmosphere is as dead as Scrooge’s demeanour.

Don’t you see?

Not even a single kid was there to play!

Not even a hint of movement was made!

You realize how fast the clock ticks.

You realize how soon the earth moves.

You wake up to see an invisible barrier above you

protecting the playground for the sake of yourself,

a girl who has grown up

and forget the times you connect with this place.

Waves of nostalgia swishes against you

as your fingers hold onto the chains of a red swing.

You sit on it, and you magically feel like a kid once more.

You have visions of the mini-you

swinging with a bunch of children,

drunken with pleasure.

You never know how long this place would last.

You fear that your childhood stories will be erased from your journal

like an eraser that is under a witch’s spell.

You wish you could stay

but Cogsworth the clock says “It’s time to go.”

Your heavy feet sent you off the grass,

stepping away from the barrier.

You slowly turn your back.

Your song is still playing

like an endless hymn.

You swear that you won’t forget this missing piece

that is stolen from your puzzle in years.

One last glance is all you need

and you would never look back

the pain of being in oblivion. 

Author's Note: So I happened to pass by the playground I used to go when I was a kid and I decided to go there to take a look. Everything was still the same, except the slide which was taken away. This poem is basically about reflecting a piece of my memories, but also something we as humans need to know: we can't travel back to the past but we can only recall of what we did. We wish to have time machines, but we don't know what will happen if we revisit our past or change our past. The past is the past and we can only look ahead.