You cannot go back home again,
There is no home to go
to.
The pond's been filled,
The grocery store
Is now a garmet outlet store,
That sells used shoes and blouses
To strange women you've not seen before.
The house you once called home is there,
And you recognize the song
That fills the air along with dust,
And ghosts of memories of him
Who used to sing to you.
And now
All that is left is one old man,
Who sits upon a worn out old chair
And listens as the record spins round.


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