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Lost and Found

I remember when the children used laugh and play
as the trees blew their hair all around their face

I remember the playground's screams of delight as the wind tickled its swings
And I remember the slides crying out in pain as kids climbed up their springs

I remember when the kids used to throw me around and toss me at the hoop
and rolling over to little kids who looked lonely with nothing to do

now I sit in a corner faded and old, and in desperate need of some air
a reminder of all the times I was loved, treasured and shared

The kids don't come here no more, now they sit in their homes instead
They don't fall out of the trees and they don't land on their heads

The only times they ever come, out their faces are blocked out with cloth
I can't see those smiles that I used to cause, and I wish they would take them off

Today I sit in my lonely spot deflating more and more each day
But something feels different as the trees all giggle away

the winds seem excited, and the playground is finally awake
Then from the corner of my eye I see a small bike come to brake

Its a young girl, older than I've seen with long curly hair
She sets down her bike and grabs her bag and walks out towards the trees
Then pulls out a book and sits down with it between her knees

I try to get her attention, I roll with all my might
but I'm old and deflated and I can't put up a good fight
The sky takes a yawn then dims out the lights

and the girl finally looks up, she moves along brushing her hand down the tree
Right as I think she is going to leave, she finally notices me

she puts a smile on her face and in a sweet voice she says,"you look like you could use a pump"
She fills me up then she checks for lumps

She bounces me like they used to do, and then she throws up a shot
She practices with me for hours until its really hot

"I'll be back she says, with friends""This playground needs some love"
And just like that the kids are back and all is as it was

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Comments

Quarantine from a basketball's perspective
(i am the featured person)

Vivi
(Love hanging with my family of poets)

author comment

Nice poem. I like that it's from the perspective of a ball.

bounces along nicely Vivi. If the ball is personified then the narrator (yourself) saved his life. I just hope he doesn't get an inflated ego.
Good write ~ well done.

.......................................
Critique is a compliment
Kind regards, Alan
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ha ha very punny!

Vivi
(Love hanging with my family of poets)

author comment
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