Roots Not Forgotten

I lived in a town where,
when growing up,
everyone hated to claim it
as their own,
yet, after graduating, finally reaching their
coveted opportunity to leave,
those people never left.
The village of 200 was
small, unattractive, unappealing – 
with
one small gas station,
bank,
post-office,
one-stop shop,
no stop lights,
and now, an abandoned school,
nothing called my name to stay.
And yet,
the heart of the region clings onto my own,
the years of yesterday telling me
that where I came from truly mattered.
I could never give it up,
the town that taught me who I was
and who I wanted to be.
So even as I search for a place to call my own,
the small silver lining of
my existence shall ever be attached
to Stella,
a place with nothing to offer
and every tale to remember.