The pores of four walls

You can go home again,

to the place that houses your youth.

But don’t forget 

the memories you made.

They are folded away,

hidden in cubby holes,

permeating the walls.

They will whisper to you 

in the quietness of the night.

You reach out for comfort

but beside you is only emptiness,

you need to remember 

that is how it is now.

You can go home again                          

but how can you truly feel it

when you made your home 

in someone else?