Colored trees;
Cold air,
This empty street over there.
Far acrossed from what I see,
The distance mainly caused by me.
Drive along past, with what we stare;
Wandering strangers over there.
A glimpse of an ounce of everyday;
every hour is a game.
Spaces between this place;

a small town,
familier faces comes and goes around.
Passes by within every blink;
these little people that we meet.
the little things we come apon
and never noticed before;
but has been there oh so very long.
We know this place is familier;
like a face, but what was their name?
Ambled along paved gravel;
each step among we travel.
This empty house remains vaccant;
Abandon place,
loneliness appears not recent.
Winds that flow and cause a chill;
Standing here, and standing still.