Playground

Some people bought the story

Of pursuing fame and glory,

Of health and wealth and growing,

Running forward, never slowing.

I see those people every day,

Each burned out in their own way,

Faces lined by years and hassle;

I laugh inside my cardboard castle.

They are knights in shining armor,

Not satisfied to be a farmer,

Dying for causes another chose;

My armor is purple pillows.

They fight over feelings they never said,

Fighting a thought they’ve trapped in their head

For fear if people knew what they thought

They’d be revealed as someone not doing so hot.

I know I’m a no-one, and no I don’t care

As I play in my sandbox in fresh autumn air.

Maybe you mock me, but maybe you doubt;

After all, what if fun is what life’s all about?

What if the crusaders, celebrities, kings

Understand medals are just metal things?

What if they know, but their leisure depends

On you staying tired and having no friends?

Do you want to know if enough is enough,

If the pain doesn’t pay for the meaningful stuff?

Care to discover if your dreams can come true?

My castle has enough space to fit two…

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