The sun once danced on fields we knew,
Where barefoot laughter lightly flew.
A crooked swing, a treehouse high—
Now silent ‘neath a fading sky.
The chalk has washed from concrete veins,
The bikes lie still in silver rains.
The fireflies don’t blink as bright,
Without our games to chase their light.
That old oak tree remembers names
We carved in bark with secret flames.
But time, unkind and sharp with years,
Has blurred our vows with grown-up fears.
The voices echo in the air,
But turn around—there’s no one there.
Just shadows cast by memory’s glow,
Of little hearts that didn’t know.
How fast the golden hours fade,
How slow we learn the price we paid.
For every day we wished to grow—
A piece of childhood we let go.
Damien Hamon • Apr 9, 2026 at 8:16 am
Honestly this is kinda deep and I genuinely love it for that
Sabrina Sabol • Jan 3, 2026 at 4:54 pm
Agreed