I went to play on my swingset

Only to realize I was too big

The memories my siblings and I had made

Slowly rusted away

I touched each chain on the tire

I whispered the secrets we shared

Walking over broken toys

Remembering how we treated each one with care

How could we let our natures mature?

Had we gotten to old for dragons and fairies?

Or had the storybook chapter simply ended

And now reality had taken fantasy's place?