What Happens

How do people grow up?
Where do they go
when the sound of fairies disappears?
When birds no longer speak to them?
When stones lay dead
and refuse to cry anymore?
Where do true people go
who forget their kites,
the treasures of a pool,
the smell of the earth
clinging to their skin?
I want to find my friends
who left my street,
and never returned.
My playmates of the swings,
when we had each other,
and swung as high as we could,
to see where the sun went down,
before running home.