You Can Never Go Home Again
Your heart is there.
Your memories linger through the halls
like ghosts.
The nicks I the wall remind us all
of your innocence.
But you can never go home again.
Your bills stack high,
No rest for the weary.
Everything is so new.
You have dishes to do and laundry-
Things don’t mysteriously clean themselves-
You thought they did
but you know the secret now.
You can never go home again.
When you wake on your birthday
there is no excitement.
No party hats or candles to bow out.
There is no one to ask if you’ve had a hard day.
No cookies and milk waiting for you.
You can never go home again.
When you are sick,
only the television is there to comfort you.
No damp cloths patting your head,
No chicken soup or puppet shows.
You make your own bed-
and now you must lie in it.
And you can never go home again.
Now you have your own babies.
It’s a whole new ballgame;
soccer, little league, ballet-
it’s never ending.
There are cookies to make for the school bazaar,
halloween costumes-
responsibility galore.
Oh how you wish you could go home again.
Funerals are attended more frequently.
You say good-bye to relatives that used to pinch your cheeks.
They used to send you money in cards.
Cards you never read- but cards mother always kept.
Now you send the money.
There is no time to find that special something.
There is no time for anything.
And you can never go home again.
Babies are all grown, leading lives of their own.
All the days you wish you would be left alone-
you long for now.
Hungry for a diaper change
or a scraped knee to kiss.
The house is quiet.
The house that is finally paid for, is silent.
And now their laughter echoes the halls;
their birthdays and first steps.
All of this rings through your head-
the projector is always running-
You see it on every wall.
From young to old in minutes.
Your mamma is gone
and now your babies too.
And they can never come home again.
Your heart is there.
Your memories linger through the halls
like ghosts.
The nicks I the wall remind us all
of your innocence.
But you can never go home again.
Your bills stack high,
No rest for the weary.
Everything is so new.
You have dishes to do and laundry-
Things don’t mysteriously clean themselves-
You thought they did
but you know the secret now.
You can never go home again.
When you wake on your birthday
there is no excitement.
No party hats or candles to bow out.
There is no one to ask if you’ve had a hard day.
No cookies and milk waiting for you.
You can never go home again.
When you are sick,
only the television is there to comfort you.
No damp cloths patting your head,
No chicken soup or puppet shows.
You make your own bed-
and now you must lie in it.
And you can never go home again.
Now you have your own babies.
It’s a whole new ballgame;
soccer, little league, ballet-
it’s never ending.
There are cookies to make for the school bazaar,
halloween costumes-
responsibility galore.
Oh how you wish you could go home again.
Funerals are attended more frequently.
You say good-bye to relatives that used to pinch your cheeks.
They used to send you money in cards.
Cards you never read- but cards mother always kept.
Now you send the money.
There is no time to find that special something.
There is no time for anything.
And you can never go home again.
Babies are all grown, leading lives of their own.
All the days you wish you would be left alone-
you long for now.
Hungry for a diaper change
or a scraped knee to kiss.
The house is quiet.
The house that is finally paid for, is silent.
And now their laughter echoes the halls;
their birthdays and first steps.
All of this rings through your head-
the projector is always running-
You see it on every wall.
From young to old in minutes.
Your mamma is gone
and now your babies too.
And they can never come home again.
1 comment:
Funny, once I escaped, I never wanted to go home again... And yet the home you discribe is exactly what I tried to create for my kids.
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