PLAYGROUND OF FEAR

by Ursula Gates
(Hampton, AR)

My life unfolded on the playground
With all of its pain and joy.
The fears and doubts of myself
Came into play-there in that make-believe,all too real world.

I was lost in the jungle gym,
Unsure of myself-confused,
My direction uncertain.
And no laughter came from me
As I wound my way round this labyrinth of terror.

I climbed up the steps of the giant slide,
Frozen by what lay ahead of me-
Unable to turn back.
And no laughter came from me
As I plunged blindly ahead, uncertain of my fate.

I scampered to the see-saw
Expectations of fun-excitement,
All turned sour in mid-air as I hung suspended in space.
And no laughter came from me
As I toppled from my dream to meet a harsh reality below.

I jumped on a swing
Prepared for an exhilarating experience-flying.
When others pushed me beyond my security-laughing--the speed blurring all chance for reason,
And no laughter came from me,
As I clung to the hope of a speedy end to my anguish.

I came, in the end, to meet the challenge of the metal rings--hopeful--here control was mine alone.
Both the cold gray steel gave off no shine that summer day.
And only tears came from me
As I was struck on the head in an unconscious moment-
A cruel and bitter message of my hopelessness.

So I ran from the playground of fear-
This make-believe, all too real world,
Home where these games of life continued to be played out.
And no laughter came from me.

Cecilia Rothschild
29 April 1973