There was a place when I was small
Where I would go to dream
Where I would be alone
A mantel from a fireplace
Boarded up long ago
I would try to peek through cracks
In the wood, but I lacked
Light from the fuel that once burned there
Now it's so dark and cold
Even through the boarded planks
I could tell, piles of ash from the smell
I could feel the rushing wind
That searched the ground for somewhere else to go
Maybe there could be, something south
I can't see, through the mouth
Of stone in the basement
Of my past, so many years ago

There was a room when I was young
Where I would keep books
Where I might read alone
Those pages had a lot to say
They brought me into other worlds
Pictures and words would fill the gaps
In my head, I didn't know I had
Portals would open, I would stare
In through another's eyes
Underneath the wooden stairs I grew to know
What I might see, where I could go
Possibilities of what my future holds
An atlas on every page
I would try to hear through cracks
Older sentences, paragraphs
To build up a tiny human being
With so much left to grow