No more do small feet rattle upon the paving
A gang of players lost in a world of fun, excitement, innocence
Replaced yearly as adulthood beckons those before
For now, there is only silence.
Childhood memories, Blocky, Bulldog, Soccer
All played out in streets, these same streets
But seemingly, in a more vivid colour
Crouching behind the wall of the neighbour
Peering, peering, waiting, heart racing
Running, in fun, no fear, for the goal
For the block.
And the kids run still, for the comfort of home
Playstation, Nintendo, PC, Digital, Satellite, DVD
Mobile phone at hand, Ready to cry for the help of a parent
Or recieve the call of worry as the darkness comes
The same darkness which obscured the ball
With which we scored our winning goals
Playing late into the night
Without a care
The same darkness which helped us hide
And helped us creep upon the hidden
Tagging late into the night
Without a care
That same darkness now fuels the fears
As they run headlong for home
Long before the night
Without a choice.
Safe, monitored, play facilities appear
Calling to parents of the obese generation to come
"Exercise your children!" Upon lifeless plastic and rubber?
No risk of injury, no challenge, no fun
We remember what they want
Football fields replaced by supermarkets
Car Parks, housing estates, garages and roads
The parents watch their youth destroyed
The obese watch tv
Squeaking swings, clanking roundabouts, juddering seesaws
No more does their echo ring out into the world
No more children sit upon their ill created seats
No more parents patch graizes and cuts
Sticking plasters too have been replaced
By warranties and technical support
The scratches, now, belong only to cd's
Looking now and then looking back
Our childhood seems surreal
So much we did, that they cannot now
Who got the better deal?