Going Back
Going Back I tread the halls and find myself uncomforted, the walls the same, the tools the same, the fools still un committed, the ghosts of my past and present arrive, imagined or real I struggle and strive, with the world the same and it's people shallow, to find my comfort, I can't. It's hollow. **** I met the Yorkshire Poet on Tuesday called Ian McMillan and he was fantastic, so I wrote this in response to the last few days.