By: Dianne Yattaw


Dead silence
Fills my empty street now
But then
Then it was alive
Then it was a whole other world
Where your imagination could take you everywhere
The original child-like games were the Olympics
We owned it
And it was a part of us
From every end of our dead end street
That was anything but dead
That world was the real world
No limits, and no one could stop us
They couldn’t if they tried
But now stuck in this bland moment of so-called reality
All we do is pray for our blissful imagination
To be unlocked again and our street to be reborn