The playground

 In the beginning, there was only a playground.
A field,
A playset,
A neighbors backyard,
A place our parents would leave us to while away the time,
Until dinner,
Until we became exhausted,
Until we needed their attention.

We loved the playground,
Hated it when mom told us to leave,
Told friends we would see them tomorrow. 
We left,
But we came back.

We came in spite of wounds, 
In spite of fights,
In spite of bullies.
We came in spite of the pain, anger, and fear we saw.
We came because it was fun,
Because we could be free,
Because, for as long as we were there,
We could do whatever we liked.

For that time we were the hero,
Saving the innocent,
The cashier, selling goods for the public.
A firefighter,
A racecar driver,
A president. 

And then we left,
And we never came back.

All of us knew it would come,
When a bully hit or yelled, we told him we would hit back, when we were bigger.
When Father made a joke, and mother laughed, and we didn't know why, they told us we would know, when we were older.
When we were on the playground, all we could think of was the time, long into the future, when we would have all the answers.
When we could yell when we wanted to.
When we could play when we wanted to.
When we could do whatever we wanted to.
In our minds, it would be heaven,
So we left the playground.

Adults would warn us to cherish what we had,
But we did not listen.
Until we left.
Then we saw that, though we could do whatever we wanted, 
Other people wanted something else.
We wanted to find love,
But we couldn't understand the other side.
We wanted respect,
But no one wanted to listen.
We wanted fun,
But we had to pay a price.

All at once, we hit a wall.
We didn't know what to do.