Love is not just fire and spark,
but hands that hold you in the dark.
It’s quiet words, a steady heart,
a choice to stay, not drift apart.

We ran through summers hand in hand,
barefoot dreams upon the sand.
Laughter echoed, wild and free,
a world that only we could see.

We carved our names in bark and stone,
swore we’d never be alone.
Secrets shared in whispered tones,
promises etched in childhood bones.

But time, it pulls like autumn winds,
scattering leaves, forgetting friends.
Our footsteps faded, paths untied,
we lost each other, side by side.

And though the years have stretched so wide,
sometimes, I hear your name inside—
a distant voice, a memory true,
a childhood I once shared with you.

The streetlights hum a lullaby,
where once we ran so free.
Barefoot dreams and laughter bright,
now fade to memory.

The swings still creak, the trees still stand,
but we don’t climb so high.
The world grew big, our hands let go,
and we forgot to try.

The summers stretched like golden waves,
so endless in their shine.
Yet time, unkind, has called us home,
and left them far behind.

The stars we swore would guide us back
now shimmer cold and high.
And childhood whispers soft goodbyes,
like echoes in the sky.