Come visit me, and I’ll show you
the places where I grew up,
the room that still stinks
of the socks that I left unattended
in the feud with my best friends,
I’ll take you through the streets
that still captures
the essence of the mirage
that lingers in the cuddle of my memories.
Come visit me in the corners of the schoolyard
where the names still stand
in the reign we left
among those that still remember us,
still hate us,
and yet search for that face
in a crowd they don’t recognize anymore.
Come visit me in the music that still roars,
in the laughter that echoes
when those of the old meet,
and inscribe yet another adventure.
Yes, I’m taking about the house down the street,
the last one in the row,
the one with the board half held,
a bit inclined,
one that smells of home, and peace,
one that’s always in waiting.
Look through the window of my little room
into the world that nurtured me,
into the spaces that left me wondering
of places I could run to
and horizons we could fly in.
You’ll find a poster of Naruto, for sure,
a well crafted collage of Taylor too,
some pieces I left half-baked
and a tie that hangs loose
among the still faces
that are now lost with the pace of time.
But come visit me still,
cause I still breathe
in the cafe that we made our headquarters in,
in the swing that flew us through our fears,
in that rotten building that still hasn’t gone down,
that still preaches of a time
when even time was young and stubborn
and we were so full of mysteries to uncover.
I’ll be there waiting for another dawn
to break through the walls of adulthood
and make another map
of the town that I grew up
and one that captures the soul
of us.
Come visit me when the air staggers
for the song we heard
in the shelves of that little place
where we had our first chocolate,
where we build the base of all we are,
where things were always in ruin
but never actually ruined.
Come visit me, and I’ll tell you
how I made the map of my town
in the memories that I hold
in the depths of my soul.
Come visit me, and you’ll see.