In the halls of twelve-year time, I tread, Where Streamstown whispers stories left unsaid. A wedding anniversary, now lost in haze, Like the fog of forgotten days. Work stress mounts on endless towers, Vinted dreams sold in sleepless hours. Anzac Day dawns with solemn pride, In shadowed memory, the heroes abide. Between the sizzle of a fry-up’s grace, I find solace in the morning's embrace. Yet amidst the chaos, I pause and breathe, To honor love, and the past's silent wreath.