Forgotten Carousel

Round and round it once did spin,

A whirl of light and laughter.
Now it stands, a rusted relic,
In a park long since abandoned.

Chipped paint flakes from wooden

horses,
Their manes no longer flowing.
Tarnished poles reach toward the sky,
Supporting naught but memories.

The calliope sits silent,

Its cheerful tunes unplayed.
Pipes clogged with years of quiet,
Melodies forever delayed.

Mirrors, once gleaming bright,

Now reflect a distorted world.
Cracked and clouded with neglect,
The magic they held unfurled.

Painted cherubs grin eternal,

Their joy now tinged with sorrow.
Frozen in their merry dance,
No hope for a tomorrow.
The ticket booth stands empty,
Its window thick with grime.
No queues of eager children,
No marking passage of time.

Grass grows tall around the base,

Nature slowly reclaiming.
Wildflowers push through cracks,
Beauty amidst the waning.

The canvas top, once striped and gay,

Hangs in tatters overhead.
Shredded by wind and weather,
Its vibrant colors long since fled.

At night, some claim to hear it:

The phantom tune, the childish glee.
Echoes of a happier time,
When the carousel spun free.

But morning light reveals the truth,

Of an attraction left to fade.
No more tokens, no more rides,
Just silence in the glade.

The gold ring, once reached for,

Has tarnished beyond recognition.
Dreams and wishes once hung upon it,
Now lost to time's attrition.

In this forgotten corner,

Where laughter used to reign,
The carousel stands sentinel,
To joy turned into pain.

A monument to merriment,
Now claimed by rust and vine.
The forgotten carousel spins no more,
Trapped in endless decline.