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The Old Swings
At dusk
Two wounded swings
Barely hang,
Rusted chains creaking
With the wind, filling the void;
Chipped seats
Swing wobbly, side by side
Slowly, cracking apart-
Dark shades deepened,
Hiding each other’s scars.
Do they still hold us?
I shiver.
© dark_angel
Two wounded swings
Barely hang,
Rusted chains creaking
With the wind, filling the void;
Chipped seats
Swing wobbly, side by side
Slowly, cracking apart-
Dark shades deepened,
Hiding each other’s scars.
Do they still hold us?
I shiver.
© dark_angel
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