To walk again on the native town's streets
Is a rendezvous with memories
Better left alone like sleeping dogs
One feels like a stranger in one's own land
Where no one knows one anymore
The feet rush past the old haunts
Afraid of what all one may remember
The triumphs on the playground and elsewhere
The compliments, the pats, the applause
The mocking of time with the few friends
When sleep was put away till dawn arrived
All the heady times may never have happened
Are now so far away that they may well
Belong in dreamland where wishes
Are often fulfilled when they cannot be
In the waking world often as dreamlike.
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