Where Have All the Children Gone

Empty carousels, windswept, Echoes of pattering feet fading away in the dirge-like wind, mourning like doves. Empty swings in the park, a waning sun looks mournfully at the little eddies of sand here and there: All lacking the soft peals of laughter, the chuckles of the innocent... Where have all the children gone? The yolk-coloured sun, sour tasting, signalling the end of a long, dreary day. The fluttering, whimpering, weary limbs creaking, the end of an era, only reminiscences of vigour when hoary white was inky black... Why, have all the children gone?