#WritcoPoemPrompt52
Write a poem on "A tree house"

Remember..
The time we used to play on my parents yard?
The warm hot chocolate we used to drink every winter evening?
The cold lemonade with half sugar made?
Those things truly used to be common.
Used to be a happiness I was sure I'd receive.

I didn't even think that could end.
I wouldn't believed it,
if someone told me then.
I was to stupid to let that go,
used to bealive the page we were living,
had an infinite way to go.

The tree...