As I travel to school on the bus,

I pass a familiar place.

I see a familiar face.

Walking down the street,

A young girl,

With long, fiery red hair,

A large bag,

A ID dangling from her neck.

Flash.

There is a boy holding her hand,

She throws her head back,

She is laughing,

He holds a long board,

And an expression that seems like he is the happiest person in the world.

Flash.

A skinny girl walks with her and the boy,

She looks Mexican,

They are sisters.

Flash.

A group is now with the girl,

 two more girls,

three more boys,

They walk to the library.

Flash.

Now further down the road, different from the path of the bus,

A light blue mobile home.

Flash.

A little red haired eight year old,

A little six year old Burnett girl,

A two year old blond boy, 

arms up like they are airplanes,

running around the big tree.

Flash.

A 12 year old girl,

Red hair in a ponytail,

In a sports bra and shorts,

Turning on the water for the AC.

Flash.

A 14 year old red headed girl,

And her 15 year old Mexican sister,

Sitting on the roof near midnight,

Talking the night away.

Flash.

A football field, 

A red haired girl,

Playing with the boys,

She will not go down,

She defends her brothers.

Flash.

A new school,

New people,

And a heartache to go home.

Flash.

A 16 year old girl,

Passes her previous home,

And is so lost in thought,

She does not feel the tears fall.

Looking out the window on my way to a technical school,

I walk down memory lane,

And I know,

There is no place like home.