The Small Childrens' Desertion

The children's playground is deserted.
The children are all gone.
No more to jump, to play, be hurt.
No more to sing a song.

The swings hang lifeless from the trees.
The seesaw too is still.
No more will little hands come seize
The monkey bars and thrill.

And where have all the children gone?
I ask myself and groan.
The children are all playing games,
Computer games, at home.