Keith Garrett

 A drive in miles not so far as the journey
 Through time,
 This trip I took with a friend, to Yorba Linda 
 On a hot, humid, day.
 Down the road, a boulevard with the same name 
 As a city I once lived,
 Around the corner, closer a school where ghosts 
 Of friends now walk.
 The gates were open, emotions filled the soul of 
 A man for another moment a boy.
 We walked the grounds where friends no longer 
 Speak or laugh, Quiet all around,
 Down the street and around another corner,   
 Amberdale To Fernglen drive, back home,
 Out from the car we step, hot and humid but here 
 We stand in front of our childhood.

 As the years pass it's a little hard to recall  
 Who lived in what house, So many friends friends,

 Staring at my old house as a picture is taken, 
 Seen from my eyes is a family inside, no more mine.

 Bryan Martin's house, my old friend, a friend far  
 Far from there as I stand and freeze a thought, 
 A picture,
 A house from nineteen seventy two, I remember you, 
 The things we would do.
 I  stood there in spots where once my feet walked,  
 The face of a house where a family

 Forty nine years gone, the Darcy's, a friend  
 Standing by my side who also once lived inside.

 Up and down many streets where young girls and 
 boys Once played and dreamed,
 Above it all, over a hill, we traveled closer to a  
 Playground, a school where children

 Once upon a time sat in classrooms to learn and  
 Listen about the world we would see.           

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