Hear the laughter rustle pass you.

It seems to tune everything out

Until something snaps you back.

No one is laughing.

Your heart seems broken.

The dead weight keeps your memories staying.

You sigh openly.

When staying used to be fun...

To play on an open playground...

One that is now torn down.

Now you stand mightily above it,

Still remembering those swings that gave you hope to some day reach as tall as the great tree above.

Only on lucky days does a mighty wind snap a sprouting limb down.

That's when you stand mightily before it.