Home

The winding lanes I used to roam,

The familiar faces that made it feel like home.

The scent of jasmine in the evening air,

The laughter and stories we used to share.

The village square, a hub of delight,

Where neighbors gathered, day or night.

The old oak tree, a symbol of strength,

A landmark of memories, etched at length.

Now, I wander through unfamiliar streets,

Seeking echoes of home, where nostalgia meets.

The charm of my old village, forever entwined,

In the tapestry of my heart, a treasure I find.

Though time has passed, and distances grow,

I carry the essence of my village, wherever I go.

In my dreams, I revisit each cobblestone,

Longing for the place I once called my own.