Work Text:
This is where I used to live.
It's gone now.
Torn down.
I ask myself why I'm writing this,
But deep down I know.
I don't want it to be erased.
Forgotten.
So many things already have been,
And I don't want this to be one of them.
This is where I used to live.
It has memories both good and bad,
And stories personal to each family that passed through here.
This is where I used to live.
It might not seem much to an outsider,
But to me it mattered.
To us.
To those who lived and grew here,
Whose streets we will remember,
Even after each brick has been removed,
And every house torn apart.
This is where I grew up.
For the first seven years of my life.
This village saw me take my first steps,
And watched me go to my first day of school.
My first pet.
My first book.
My first word.
My first home.
This is where I used to live.
It is not much,
But it's where I am from.
This is where I used to live,
And I am proud,
That I called it my own.