seesaw

it’s this never-ending ride –
ghostly smiles and faded laughs;
the wooden beam begins creaking,
skeletons litter the grass,
engaged in this up-and-down,
you have become a withered mass
and i am a mere shadow –
but the wooden beam creaks again
and i go up and you go down,
up and down, up and down,
we never meet in this lifetime.