Tentatively I walk into the play-ground,
Cautious of all of the laughter like sound.
The boys playing football and the girls braiding hair,
It seems to be I don't belong here nor there.
Under a tree I get out my pen and pad,
Look for some inspiration and my eyes come across this lad.
He's sitting up against the wall, no cares appear visible at all.
He's doing the same thing I am!
Looking around there's a few I can see, separated from the rest while they play happily.
Maybe I'm not alone in my writing quest,
We dont seem to be bothered about being 'top dog' like the rest.
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