And No Children Swing

A picture on the internet,
saved to my computer,
sad to look at;
a dirt caked,
broken swing seat.
Rusted chains
splayed across
cracked dried mud,
on the ground in front
of a school.

The kids aren't
laughing, chattering,
screeching, screaming,
streaming out
boarded up front doors;
fighting to
climb aboard
for one quick
dream ride
into the sky.

Dirt caked,
flood washed,
broken dreams,
uprooted families
aren't coming back.
Cry for the children,
dreams dashed to the ground.
No laughter
at this school;
a picture of life.
Sad to look at,
yet I stare.