Past Goes With Me Poem by Francis Duggan

Wherever I go to my past goes with me
I often remember the what used to be
Of where I lived when far younger far north of this place
Where to many today mine would be a stranger's face
Time that rusts iron keeps ticking away
And does not wait for anyone as the wise one does say
Us ageing migrants only retain memories of our younger years long gone
Whilst life all around us as usual goes on
To our memories of what was we may fondly cling
And of the praises of the homeland we may love to sing
But when we were younger there we did not stay
Though many migrants return home for to grow old and gray
For the what used to be I have shed my last tears
But the memories remain of the now long gone years.