They say you can't go back again
and that you'll learn is true.
You'll find things changed so very much
from what you thought you knew.
The hills won't seem to be as steep,
the backyard trees that tall.
And forget about the ivy
that grew against the wall.
Young Billy, Tom, and Mary,
the playmates you once knew;
Although they act quite friendly,
they don't remember you.
The swimming hole has now gone dry,
old Dobbin, long since died.
And weeds have overgrown the trail
on which you used to ride.
The old dirt road down by the creek
is now a paved highway.
And someone built a warehouse
where, as kids, you used to play.
The roof is gone now from the house,
the barn's a `rubbled heap.
And neighbor Jones, who lived next door,
he `passed on in his sleep.
The local train no longer runs,
they pulled up all the rail.
When things slowed down some years ago,
it was the first to fail.
The old school is still standing,
though no students tread the halls.
The windows all are broken,
and graffiti stains the walls.
The park bench at the courthouse,
where the old men used to meet,
Is empty now, no one sits there,
they moved the county seat.
Crime has reared its ugly head,
with all the usual blight.
And folks don't know their neighbors,
and lock their doors at night.
You'll look around and shed a tear,
as memories flood your mind.
Then reality will gain control,
and you'll leave the past behind.
Gifford Wherry