my childhood’s turned to dust,
brick walls crumbled to death
now that im older it’s not so fun,
to make believe worlds between,
to stare down this loaded gun
ghosts of forgotten words and scenes
building in my cells, making me.
I can still hear who I used to be,
all that I no longer am.
I tread the dirt that many years ago
my younger self called home
the pillars are gone now
it’s just dust and trees,
all that I was
and all that I could never be.