A young boy walks on a road,

All around he feels an emptiness,

As if the road was once full and happy,

But now forgotten.

A tall wooden house on one side of the road,

Seems to beckon him to go inside,

As if it once held many people in its walls,

Who went away,

And left it forgotten.

The road is of dirt,

But its packed hard,

As if many feet and wheels passed over it,

A road that was once busy and full,

Is now empty and forgotten,

Except for the sound of small shuffling feet.

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