In the heart of a small, quiet town, Where the streets are worn and the sun beats down, I walk again, through roads I knew, Where my childhood dreams once grew. The trees still hum their gentle song, Their shadows tall, their arms so strong. The river flows as it did before, But its voice seems softer, its secrets more. Each corner speaks of days long gone, Of laughter, tears, and a youthful dawn. Here’s the park where I used to play, Where joy and sorrow chose to stay. I see the house with the faded door, Its creaking hinges, its scuffed-up floor. Inside, the echoes of love and pain, A family’s story in sunshine and rain. The faces I knew, they’re shadows now, Their whispers brush my furrowed brow. The past is here, it’s woven tight, In every corner, in every light. But standing here, I feel the glow, Of what I lost and what I know. This town, this place, it holds my heart, A piece of me, a sacred part. Though memories sting, I smile still, For this small town shapes my will. It taugh...