Returning To The Childhood Home - Poem by Ian Bowen
On a whim,
I thought to visit
that house, where babies screamed
and my parents struggled with life.
Those early days
of my childhood, soaked
in the good memories of play
in both nursery and school.
But now, there are no bricks, no house,
just a vacant plot.
My eyes welled up
as I turned and walked away.
to my once happy ghosts.
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