Stickers on walls
and dancing in the halls;
the swing swaying the wind.
The walnut tree that’s good for climbing
and the ever so delicious dining;
the garden path waiting to be ran upon.
The trampoline that’s never used
and the sky all shades of blues;
the carpets on old parquet wooden floors.
The crumbling facade and the rose arch;
the hope that I’ll never have to leave.