There are times when we think
of places where we grew up.
We moved away, then came back
to find some places were different
and others were not.
The ones that were different
we remember them as they were.
We hoped they would never change,
but time and progress
made sure that they did
and all we are left with
are memories of what once was.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
How true, best not to look back. well written. Kind regards Ann