All these songs a reflection of the past
These walls echo the words of my childhood
Laughter through the cracks
Tears hidden in the shadows
It is a time of passing
A time of reflection
A time of evaluation of the decisions, the paths, the results of a life held together by brick and concrete
I was five years old without a worry; without a care; with a life time playing in the musical box of imagination inside my head
At ten a new world opened up but home in the corner of my eye
Soon, the wind passed the years of adolescence like the school bus along the main street
I walked away with a kiss and a tear to explore the unknown
With a family picture in the back of my pocket; a constant reminder of the safety of home
Always there; close
Like a brilliant magic trick, innocence disappeared not to be surfaced again for many years
Now thousands of miles worn on my face, I return to say goodbye
Goodbye to home
Goodbye to my first steps
First skin of the knee
First kiss
First proud moment
The picture remains
My face growing through the years
The same pose, the same smile, a new notch of life etched in a wrinkle
Laying on the grass one last time and looking to the stars I am thankful and confused
No longer will these rooms be mine
No longer will I walk through this door
No longer will I call this home.
As I walk around the each room and hallway, hollow and still, I can hear millions of footsteps complimented with the voice of my mother, father and siblings. Laughing and playing with music in the background. It all rushed back to me now.
With a fond farewell, I lock up the memories for another time; walk out the front door and open the door to a new chapter
Recruiterpoet Blog 
I too remember very clearly the day I walked out my door, I was but 17 yrs old, though for different reasons than yours, my home was not a happy one, it was filled with drunkenness, fighting and abuse. For the rest of my life I would live with those demons in my closets. It’s only now the past 3 years that I found my voice in my poetry. Your work here is wonderful, I felt every word, your visuals are clear, you show to your reader the magic in your pen. Well done, I applaud you dear poet.
Thank you Vincent for that open thought.
Very nice. I moved from home many years ago, but then moved back to my parent’s home. My husband, son and I live there now. In response to Vincent’s note, I had a wonderful all-american childhool.