The Playground. Poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi

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.