Footprints left on the oak wood floor,

Paintings hung up,

Water running,

Pots clanging,

Memories marked from the scribbles drawn on the wall,

Sunny days meant hours spent outside,

Movie nights every Friday, and sleepover every Saturday,

Then the sound of moving trucks,

To boxes stacked up,

To an empty house,

I find myself in a car heading away from the everything I’ve ever knew,

In a new place full of people I’ve never seen before,

Sunny days yet no friends to play with,

Is this the new place im supposed to call home?