YOU CAN'T GO BACK

You can't go back is a saying,
That I never understood.
Until the day, that I returned,
To the place of my childhood.

I remember there, where I was raised,
Amongst the apple trees,
How the blossoms were like bouquets,
With their fragrence on every breeze.

Their was a little dusty lane,
That led down to a brook,
With a small rock wall, behind it,
On this pathway that I took.

I used to like to wade in it,
And cross to the other side.
I'd climb that little hill of woods,
And play "pretend and hidel"

I'd wander through the orchard,
When on my way back home,
And dream of all the places,
Out there, for me to roam.

I'd kick at clumps of orchard grass,
In rows all freshly mowed,
Surrounded by those apple trees,
In this place where I had growed.

Ten years had quickly slipped away,
And then I made  a trip back home,
The place was hard to recognize,
With orchards wild, and overgrown.

That dusty lane, I used to walk,
It still was partiallly therel
But, remembering, "How it used to be," 
Was almost more than I could bear.

So, when I hear, "You can't go back,"
I now know what it means,
But then, I found I could go back,
In my memories and dreams.

"You can't go back," how true that is,
Yhe "past" is not "today,
But warm thoughts of our past,
Can help us live a better way.