Les Miserables
A Playground
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This is some poetry (or an attempt at it) that I wrote a while back. Don't laugh too hard.

A playground

A Childrens play place

We come to this place, and yet we are not children anymore

We have grown to be the teenagers you see before you

Things were simpler when we were young

Now there stands five friends, in a park, when the moon has risen and the streets are black

An odd number

But these former children, present teenagers have picked pairs

One couple here, one couple there

Alone stands the last.

She thinks of the situation as if they were all the tires of society

On pair in the front, one in the back

She was the spare in this equation

The fifth, the one that seemed of no importance

But she was important even if she was left in the back where no one could see her.

She was the spare in case trouble arose

She would help if any in the pairs faltered

She knows she would not be about to fill that void completely, but she knows she would help until a replacement could be found

And so she excepts this fifth tire, spare wheel label that she think of in her head

At the park, the couples stand or sit or lay together

She has not a person to couple with

But does she need one?

The modern car that we call society never has six wheels.

And so five it is.

She encircles the park, walking on the boarder line

Until she realizes that she is walking the fine line of her very own life.

She is nearly walking as though she were encompassing a tire

Around she went, too many times to count

But never standing still, there was no time for that

Every once in a while, she would do something dramatic, like a skip or a job or a leap

And nearly fall from her trail of life

Nearly

She has yet to fall, and hope to not fall for a long times

And keeps adventuring.

The couples giggle, as couples do

Some make song, in jest in jest

You make me what to something

You make me what to scream

I feel that I am in a something

I feel that I am in a dream

The fifth adds the last line, but neither one of one of the couple notices

They are happy, and that is enough for her

She continues her track around and around

It would be foolish if they were to add a sixth wheel now to the fifth wheels life

She is so busy, deciding where to go and how to get there, that the sixth would be ignored

So a sixth would be a none too good idea.

Giggles, giggles, she keeps her smile

One spot in her trail, she notices

Is always touched by the same foot

Would she fall if that changed?

A voice calls in the darkness, what are we doing in a place meant for children to play in the day time

When we are teenagers, filthy, low down teenagers hanging about at night

Some high on himself sir has called us away from our land where we can be as happy as we wish

Or to be as stable and helpful and focused as we might be

Play not in this place

Society wants the fifth, and the others for that matter, to leave

Before she keeps in memory what she knows

But her mind is sharp

Society has made us into the teenagers that this elder man sees, and yet does not have complete control

Society has made us age, and for the most part, partner

But being in this place of innocence makes the fifth know what Society will not admit

Coupling is not necessary in this stage of life

It is, how ever, pleasure for those who do pair

And when it is not, there are people such as this fifth wheel of which we speak

Who will aid the gashed others.

Society tells us to double up

She stands alone

Society makes them leave, but she remembers

She walks home, now alone, pondering these thoughts that ran in her head while in the place that children play

And dream

She walks alone, the strongest of the pack

Did you ever wish that you had a memory that would record every exact wonderful word you thought

Just so you could put it down before it disappeared?

And crosses the lawns of others on her way

The lights in her house are all out except for those on the porch

She opens the door, kick of her shoes

Oh, how small the shoes are

Perhaps she is still but a child who can understand but not deliberate the ways of the world

She saunters to her computer and for once, sits

Not in giving up, but to record what she has learned

Perhaps other would like to know this too

And so she writes and writes and ignores the chatter until she is done

Who will read it? Who will know what she feels inside as if it was inside them as well?

As she draws near the end of the page again, she thinks of the circle that he life is

Circles never end, she will live a long life

Weather or not another wheel is added is up to the creator of the circle

She creates her own circle

The greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return