You cannot go back,

to return does not mean to rerun,

I recognise these streets,

recall a certain laugh,

a twisted lie,

an open door,

but my footprints have changed,

I cannot find the same sunflower

I drew when I was younger

than this youth I now cling to

and so many 

of those old doors have twisted

and the lies opened out to be

nothing more than lessons.

I cannot go back,

the streets now wear shadows 

that never fell from my form.

All words and drawings by Damien B. Donnelly