Old Streets

I unfolded a map of my town’s winding ways,

the creases felt like whispers of long-gone days.

Familiar yet foreign, these paths I once trod,

searching for places where I often sat awed.

With every finger trace, a name tugs at my heart,

yet the roads lead to houses now painted apart.

Closed doors and lost friends, how quickly they fade,

like the fading ink on a map I once made.