or perhaps I do.
Playground Days
I walk through the silent
Corridors of my head
Where there is no light pollution
Just memory intrusion
From playground days
Memories tattooed
Inside my eyelids
Of a bench
A shredded leaf
A leaking pen
A fickle friend
Who ran off and left me
Alone on the bench
Image found on Pinterest
writing in north norfolk 
Oh.. i almost cried. I cannot tell you how the words have hit.
LikeLiked by 2 people