The Swing Still Sings

The rusted chains still hold my weight,

Though now I swing a little late.

The wind still hums that lullaby,

That rocked me once beneath the sky.

The grass remembers barefoot runs,

The scraped-up knees, the setting suns.

And every creak, a voice I knew,

Still calling back from me to you

Thanks For Reading. 🖤💜🖤💜🖤