The Playground — Prantar Buragohain

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The Playground

Why are they covering this piece of land,

With stones, bricks and wooden frame.

They say it will become a parking for cars,

The field which belonged to us.

We played football, police and thief,

Kick the can and hide and seek.

It was a friend who is now gone,

Now we are standing all alone.

Today no more is that playground,

The only which was in the town.

By Prantar Buragohain