I once relied on these things
That promised pleasure
But what of late?
These things remain unchanged
Yet I have not
Where are her buttons and strings?
Where are her trigger things?
The giggles
Those painful belly wiggles?
Now a passive chuckle
Forced, polite
A light tap of the mallet
No swings, no 'ring-a-ding-dings'
The carnival, silent and still
And somewhere the echo
Faded and faint
The music
Too familiar
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