They crumble slowly and persistently,
Opposite one another, they watch,
As they rust, rot, succumb
To the unmerciful insistence of time.
They do not long for fresh paint,
Once brimming with laughter,
Delight, plans, wishes.
Now run along,
They’ve got no use for you.
They don’t want fresh laughter,
Delight, wishes, plans, paint.
They were betrayed and abandoned
By the very people who built them
Up from the ground,
From the ground up.
Run along now,
For however hard you try,
They would rather crumble
Than trust you.