These were the days

When the playground bell rings, kids hop on swings.
Monkey bars are the new thang.
Oh when the playground bell rings all the teachers starts to sing.
Smiles start to ting, ting, ting.
Trees whistle in the wind as if they were your friends.
Then the music starts up again.
When the playground bell rings.
We feel free all over again.
And rugby is a sin. With lilac and lavender they’re all flower kin.
Oh how nice. Oh how sweet.
When the playground bell rings.

This poem is about: 
Me
My community
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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