That Place of Childhood

I will turn back the pages of my memory to that place, of childhood years and of brightly painted rows of dwelling; the hue of each memory that drifts- I treasure and embrace, each day was a wonderful story for the telling; those far gone days adorned so lovely with no sadness, long before I was warped with grief and great madness; I recall all the colorful rows of houses so pretty, now, a ghetto with paint peeling. Oh what a pity! Our house was painted a gay shade of azure blue, we did not have much but our life was stained perfect; oh, why did I come back to our old home for a view, to see those broken old crumbling rows of neglect; I heard they were going to be demolished- torn down, and in a heap of rubble all my hued memories will drown; all those beautiful childhood treasures destroyed, the pigment of my memories moved into a dark void! _______________________________ October 11, 2018 Poetry/Rhyme/That Place of Childhood Copyright Protected, ID 18-1070-581-01 All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.