It’s Summer, and I’m once again walking down this old street
without you this time.
You said this place brought you
warmth and hope
whenever things were going bad.
I come here when I miss you.
You wouldn’t care whoever was around and talked to the trees,
you said you understood how they felt and would comfort them.
You enjoyed coming here the most when it was summer,
you would run towards the pile of leaves and jump on them,
the sound of the leaves made your smile so wide.
I stand here today, looking back,
regretting everything I have done that you would have hated.
I look at the trees and ask them since a long time
‘where did my childhood go?’
