Omer Mujahid Poetry

it had been six years since i'd been there;
i swore i'd come back every day.
nonetheless, highlands playground hadnt seen my face
since the last day of 5th grade.
and tonight, revisited memories.
there's where all the bullies hung out,
my loser crowd was down at the bottom of the slide.
not much has changed over the years,
the fort at the end of the field is still there-
i'd hide out, ride out all confrontations there.

on the swing set i feel so tall,
last time i was there, i couldnt get 5 feet off the ground.
now i hit the top of the dome with room to spare,
and i was for once afraid of a monumental fall.
walk on the woodchips past the ramp-
i still remember in the winter, we chilled there
got cold got damp-
and when we went inside, to change at our lockers
everything was pink against flourescent light.

and here is where i got beat up every day.
here is where recess stopped being fun.
heres where i ran inside the moment i could,
and here is where i came home every day crying
defiant that i would succeed tomorrow.

i guess i still havent conquered some demons.

Poet: Andrew S Adams