This Poem was Submitted By: Gene Dixon On Date: 2001-12-29 16:03:41 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

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The Playground of Despair

Beyond the scope of time, beyond God's breath, Beyond the meager margins of sound mind, Far past the place where heroes stare down death, Far past the touch of shadows ill-defined, There stands a windless lea, a grassless plain, Where sunlight will not touch nor rain relieve. Where pain is such it goes far past mere pain. Where Fortune fails those Fate did not deceive. Here find a rusty gate none choose to pass. Here find a see-saw with a broken base; A sand-box filled with shards of shattered glass, A crying clown with mud upon his face.      This is the place the world stops turning 'round.      The playground of despair is what we've found.

Copyright © December 2001 Gene Dixon


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