The world changes With a gust of air As I walk down The once familiar roads Where I used to Run around the uncle's field And pick one of those alluring Yellow flowers Then get thrilled by the Shout of the sweetvendor All the children ran to him As he filled the tummies of the insolvent Those evocations Are now effaced Instead there are Tall structures Peckish creatures ****** hands As I try to recollect The crooked house Across the street Where I spent my precious years Is now gone.