The Ghosts of Yesteryear
It is strange being here --
among the ghosts of yesteryear.
A place, a town I still know so well
and yet, there's been change -- what -- I cannot tell.
I think it must be I.
I glance around and it seems to me --
surely, it cannot be!
And yet, skipping along among the other ghosts,
I see the ghost of me.
I smile, a twing of sadness. No, more
melancholy -- I've changed, yes, I've changed.
For the better or for the worse?
The better, I think.
Home, but not home.
Familiar, yet foreign.
No, I no longer belong.
My ghost, yes, my ghost belongs.
But not I, among the ghosts of yesteryear.
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