There were blessing that came from above,
when the bricks fell from the sky with love.
The crew had been stalled, and ran out of dough,
construction site of chaos, progress was slow.

Every vice and virtue shared among the men,
they sat around and drank and drank it all again.
A fire had caused their reparations sour,
and down came the building like a falling tower.

The construction of the workers was put to an end,
it was a relationship the boss could not mend.
The building that was only half built lay in debris,
the workers had no confidence, nor no modesty.

The place was in ruins, the building was in smolders,
all the workers packed up, and moved away to Boulder.
It was the skyscraper that never was to flourish,
but some townsfolk found a way to take it and nourish.

Eventually, a fence surrounded the whole lot,
a playground was built, and people just forgot
the building that had once been there to rot
now a playground, safe for many a tot.

So bring your children to the park outside,
let them slide on the fireman’s slide.
Future firemen play tag on the once failed site,
and kids will do construction one day, do it right.

A playground is a launching pad for dreams,
a towering inferno a harbor full of screams.
Without the pain of failure, we’d have no success,
so please parents and teachers, give the kids recess!

(c) Mark Hudson 2016