#5: Paved Paradise

Out behind the pond, there was a path

The path lead into the woods, where adventures were held

The path forked


To the right was the hanger, full of equipment and tools

All lost and forgotten decades ago

Painted green, it contained no planes or aircraft

But still our imaginations flew


To the left lead deep to our fort,

No more than a glorified ladder nailed to a tree, it was our castle.

We built it with our own hands, scavenging pieces for it from around the neighborhood

From it we could see the pond, where we planned to build a floating fort out of milk jugs


Beyond the fort and the hanger was a field

With grass so high, it tickled our noses as we ran

This was our battlefield

We commanded divisions, planned strategies, perfected tactics.

We dressed in my fathers old uniforms and hats and pretended we were heroes


We were heroes

Heroes of our imagination

This place was ours

This place was our home

And we protected it for as long as we could


Some years later it was taken from us

A victim of a form of terrorism called commercialism

The fort and the field and the hanger, gave way to asphalt and concrete and steel

Where once was the wonderland of childhood, now stood an abandoned furniture store

A fence is all that separates the houses from the desolate ground zero pavement

Paradise lost

We shall never forget


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