Gone are the days
when we ran along the creek
chasing minnows,
and turning over countless rocks
in the search for crayfish.
Gone is the age
when paradise was
a swingset,
a playhouse,
and a sandbox,
that could be anything
we wanted them to be.
The laughter of little
boys and girls living
out their dreams
died long ago.
One by one, they were
plucked from their roots
and taken far away.
I didn't realize
how essential they were
until it was too late.
I've seen some of them
since then.
We say hello, but what
we grew here seems to have
wilted.
As I drive down the street
the houses look the same,
but in my eyes,
the landscape is forever changed.
The damage is irreversible.
One still lives nextdoor,
but she's more distant
than most galaxies.
Is there really
such a thing
as "Best Friends Forever"?
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