Playground Poem by Fawole Immanuel Taiwo

This place seems dry.
It's but unusual.
What has gone wrong with this field?
A place of pleasant cacophonies has gone mute.
.
Why has this field turned desolate?
Why are the slides resisting friction?
Why are the teeter-totters on rest?
Why are the playhouses lonely?
Why are the swings not oscillating?
.
Dad!
Where are my playmates?
When will their holiday to Sambisa due?
Will I remain recluse till they return?
.
Dad!
Television is getting humdrum.
Theatre and cinema are in their doldrums.
I'm fed up with the beat of drums.
Get my playmates back to the playground.