Over the border where only woods once were
Are the gray lands on a once country road
Developments landscaped and carefully planned
With rocks and ruts, rills and artificial streams
Upturned dug out stones transformed to fortress walls
Gazebo porches laced with gingerbread trim
And mailbox crosses like the fields of Flanders
When I was young I played with trains,
Lionel and American Flyer
And quite often I would go to the five and dime
And spend my allowance on another kit that snapped together,
And then, I too, lived in Plasticville.
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