Children at play filled with innocence,
Trees in the playground where they hide.
Running, shouting no cares in the world,
Waves of freedom flows higher than the tide.
In that playground stands a child all alone,
Fraught with sadness, with nobody to play.
His dejection surges as his tears threaten,
Just wishing a shrill of a whistle would end the day.
Being so alone is a solitary game,
Thoughts of “what have I done”
The shrills and screams of play,
Ending a game for those that won.
Standing all alone playtime is long,
Children running all unaware,
He stands still alone,
Envy and sadness, he stands just to stare.
Sheridan