Different Time, Same Place
62
A different time perhaps
but the same place
A girl of 11 with a freckled face
rode to the public swimming pool
look ma no hands on a purple banana bike
No crack houses or prostitutes in sight
A different time in the same little place
that once was home, so quiet..so safe
to play outside, dodgeball, chinese jump rope
One will seek while the others hide
A different time but the same place
our children cannot this world embrace
what used to be
neighborhoods free of sirens and crime
The freckled girl would skip down the street
popsicle in hand, and life was sweet
saying hello to strangers she would meet
They were not to be feared, No Megans Law
someone elses mom cleaning you up if you were to fall
We wouldn't go home until we'd hear the call
and the streetlights came on, so bright and tall
a kid in the park picks up a needle and a used syringe
starts to play around, says "What is this"
and parents shudder, pray, and cringe...
Now children remain indoors
playing Sims games, on the internet
Mom, I'm so bored......
What happened to that world we knew?
After all we are in the same place
There once was grass so green and fresh
in the park where we played each day
The swings were painted green every Spring
The freckled girl and her best friend would swing
as high as they could go
I see London I see France
I see Molly's underpants!
Today the park is dark and full of danger
and even the neighbor is now a stranger
They wait like vampires, vultures, demons
to capture each and every mother's child
Hanging out by the basketball court
by the swingset that now has no swings
Offering a new brand of candy
a trip to the morgue
Mommy, Why can't I go to the park
I'm so bored
A different Time, but the same place
We long for days long ago
In this town where we ourselves did grow
The senior citizens have been pushed out
Much too scary for them to stay
heartbreaking to see this place
where children used to laugh, and run and play
A different time perhaps, but the same place
Never to return
can't we raise children here?
It's a sad reality
Somewhere in that park
in decades past
there lies the memory of a place so nice
in the background Mr. Softee's Ice Cream theme
not thugs, chains, and songs degrading women
A different time, but the same place
Where is that girl with the freckled face?
The year was 1973
Its sad to say but that girl was me
Who is this girl who can't play outside in that same place
The year is 2009
and that freckle faced 11 year old girl is mine.
PrintShare it! — Rate it: up down flag this hub
Comments
Erin, your poem is not only a work of art, but a dead on accurate, and sad commentary on the state of society today. Like you, I can remember all the freedom and joy of growing up in the late 60's and 70's, and am very saddened to see my daughter growing up in a world where she is a virtual prisoner in her own home. What has caused this change? After 30 years of "progress" our society is crumbling...It is time for good people to stand up and make their voices heard. Thank you for taking the lead. I hope everyone reads your poem, think hard on its' message, and start speaking up.
Great poem ma.
Love the ending.
I love the story this poem tells, as I am reading this a picture is drawn in my mind. It brought a tear to my eye! That's talent!
Great poem Erin. "Irish." Sure took me back to when life was so much easier. Back then, people weren't afraid to open their doors, sit on their porches, and let their kids out to play. Curfews were kept and the Streets were safe. Think I'd actually trade some years to go back to those days. Thanks for the "Good memories."
Besides being a poet, you are a wonderful story-teller. Stirred many emotions. Thank you Erin.
This is great, so sadly real! I am glad to have found you thanks to Pete! Going to become fan now... :)
This is so true! You brought tears to my eyes, missing the days you describe.
Hi Erin, your poem is so true. We were just discussing playing until the street lights came on. Times have changed that's for sure. Welcome to hubpages!
~Jen
I can absolutely relate to that. I grew up then too. It was a different time. I regret that my grandchildren don't have those opportunities of freedom like we had. I also agree with Bob that we have given up quite a bit for the new technology that we enjoy. Erin, you are gifted as a poet. Keep them coming.
I was 11 in 1980 and the same holds true for me. Beautifully put. Thank you so much for that gift! Welcome to HubPages----wait, you,ve been here longer than me! Gimme more! Let's hear from you more often even if it isn't a masterpiece like this. Freeflow and keep in touch!
Most excellent, you got it all in one piece. I go through the same melancholy trip every time I drive past the neighborhood i grew up in.I see fewer children out in the street or by ther parks. And that is because we have failed to protect them and keep safe the places they should be going to play. I remember just reaching my teenage year, and we found a junkie nodding on the bench at the park where we played ball every day. We just thought he fell asleep. As the older guys srarted to come by, they knew the deal. Someone went and got a parent, who got more and they went for the guy. Picked him up and gave him the riot act about being there, to get lost and not come back. Well, he made the mistake of coming back and trying to open shop selling his wares. He first got a terrible ass kicking, then a call to the cops. That was 1963,and I never forgot it. That's how you protect your children and stop the garbage from gaining a foothold.
Thank you all so much for taking time to read my words. Unfortunately, this is a sad reality for far too many of our children today. I appreciate you taking to time to share your thoughts on this poem.
Erin, Truer words could not have been spoken. The way you captured our beautiful past was outstanding. It is just so sad that our children and grandchildren can not have same peace of mind, security and happiness that we had growing up.
I like ME at the end!!!
Wow...Erin! This really took me back in time. I remember the banana seat bike, dogeball, and not coming in until the streetlights came on. Even remember the safety of the neighborhood...like you mentioned in this great poem...I remember "wiping-out" (doing wheelies!) several blocks away and a lady coming out to help...who knew exactly who my Mom was. Try that today! You are right about the differences in time of the same place between 1973 and 2008. It is a sad commentary of our society. Thank you for this great poem journey back in time...of the good things and kid things in our neighborhoods.


















Tracey Fonzo says:
7 months ago
Fabulous! Terrific read! Since you and reside in the same town and always have, and our both raising our children here, this one really hit "home" for me. Your subject is dead on accurate. both of your poems have made me cry today. Not neccesarily in a bad way, in a way or realization.
Thank you for your words.