Forgotten Places

There’s a street where the stones are cracked,
Where no one walks, no voices come back.
The buildings are empty, windows all closed,
Once filled with life, now quiet and posed.

The door is locked, the walls are worn,
Paint chipped away, and old floors are torn.
Once, there were songs, laughter, and cheer,
Now all that’s left is silence here.

The clock on the wall has stopped in time,
Frozen forever in its prime.
No one remembers, no one can say,
What happened to the people who lived here each day.

But still, in the quiet, you can feel
The past, like a whisper, softly real.
These places may fade, but they’ll always stay,
In the heart of the world, tucked away.