Off Limits
Contributed by Yvonne Moss
When you’re a kid, you’re eager for fun,
Adventures await,
When you have none;
Though you know wrong from right, as is my case,
T’was homeschooled ‘til six,
Next, a new school to face;
A shoddy brick building stood two stories high,
With wooden walls too,
Sadly, wanting to cry,
Old gym pieces dotted a grass-less playground,
A sandbox and swing,
Upon sand, dirt abound;
Ahead of my class mates, I coached some as well,
Just as kids are kids,
Drew me into their spell;
So, I tried to recall Mother’s strict teachings,
Went out of my head,
Along with her preachings;
For at the new school, a contraption I found,
A safety devise,
To descend to the ground;
A large, pale-green “drain”, tube it appeared to be,
But what did it drain,
It was all new to me;
It started atop of that rocky old school,
Terminating at,
O’er the ground vestibule;
Being a bit timid and shy as a rule,
I watched girls and boys,
Mount this obsolete tool;
Upon and inside this, they scurried about,
It did appear fun,
An adventure, no doubt;
They’d clamber to the top and slid down to earth,
Toppled bowling pins,
Gaily pealing their mirth;
Now, my courage arose when I saw at the top,
A full, open window,
Of kids as they’d flop
Into the chute, a purported escape route,
From fire or quake,
The kids turned it about;
A slide it became, to our wild, gleeful band,
The teachers did cage,
It became a wasteland;
The window was locked, the opening boarded,
To the kids’ dismay,
Their safety was warded;
For that game of fun, the adventurous kind,
One that challenged
Your life, metal and mind;
I knew wrong from right, so I never partook,
That impetus lark,
Which kids loved and mistook;
A toy, for us kids meant enjoyment that’s free,
Adventure and fun,
Can mean trouble for thee.