It Use To Be My Playground Poem by jackie compton

This use to be my playground
A pace where there were no sorrow.
Where the fense gate of compassion and love
was open to all that wanted to enter.

This use to be my playground
Where in the garden of life.
The roses bloomed with out thorns.
The water tasted like wine..

This use to be my playground.
Where the merry-go-around ride never stop.
The wind blow gentley throught the trees.
Where the rain was strong enought to do the
job, but gental enought to nurse the soul.

I say.

This use to be my playground.
Where the sound of laughter echo
off the walls of joy
Where the warm sunray were plenty, and the dark
cloud were no more.

This use to be my playground.
But it is my playground no more.