The basketball court was pitch dark,
Illuminated by a single faint light.
So quiet you could hear a bark,
Which way worse than a bite.
Cicadas chirping in summer air,
They didn’t bother me, I swear.
Faded outlines of the hopscotch,
My brother and I once played on.
A rusty shed, stood lowly in the darkness,
Where inside it had snakes and witches.
A rattling door, that wasn’t friends with its frame.
We were too scared to enter for a game.
This court held my childhood in its palm.
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