There is a rusty old swing.
Feeling strong, still proud and spry.
Although, it creeks when hope and faith take turns to ride by.
By its side is a big banyan tree
With vines of will looming in.
In the playground of my mind--
Is a little garden, speckled with motley flowers
That symbolizes each love of my life.
Some standing tall, some drooping, yet all alive.
Amongst them also lurk the black weeds of heartbreak,
Sometimes threatening to overrun all colors in sight.
Just a fraction of my mind, there is much more beyond my sight.
Some I hope to see someday, some I dread to find;
In the playground of my Mind.