Once upon a time, in a long hallway,
the walls whispered stories of forgotten days.
Shadows played tag with the warm sunlight,
while I walked barefoot on the cool tiles.

I miss the sound of my mother's voice,
calling me for afternoon tea.
A taste of strawberry jam and butter on warm toast.
We would sit by the window, counting cars on the road,
dreaming about where they could take us.

The hallway was a journey, not a passage,
with doors that opened only in my dreams.
Each step a beat in the song of childhood,
a manifesto of moments meant to be cherished.

I wonder if the walls still remember me,
laughing and running, a shadow among shadows.