As my life passed me by,
I watched all my friends grow.
They moved away to a new life.
Never to return to this tiny town
and all of our memories pushed,
pushed into the corner of the brain.
Only to be brought back with stories,
I watched my life pass.
All of the children play.
They play how me and my friends
.... used to. It is hard to believe
they are gone. Never to return.
Never to see the turn of this town,
remember how we used to laugh.
Only ever to begin fights now,
children do not understand.
Times of love, hate, and imagination,
rarely do children see this.
Imagination is only here,
In the playground of the past.
This tiny town will crumble.
Under the weight of lost imagination.
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