I want to return and have everything be the same
As it was when I left on that June afternoon
Fourteen years ago; my father’s birthday
I want to return to my room and my house
And the walks through the woods. The urges
That could have been love or just hormone surges
And I don’t want to give up my child or spouse
Either, because that surely wouldn’t be okay
My friend says that childhood is like Brigadoon
You may dream of it, but you can’t go back again
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