Return to School

They're going to pull it down, my old school, That's a pity, after all those glorious years; But it's derelict now, and I know it has to fall, So I went inside the gate, whilst holding back my tears. The corridors echoed to a familiar noise, The coming and going of so many eager boys; I heard their ghostly voices from out of the past, A timely reminder that nothing ever lasts. I saw books and pencils scattered on the floor, But of course I realised I didn't need them anymore; And there on a blackboard, in a practised hand, I saw notes from a Master that I tried to understand. And in the Great Hall, through the darkness and the dust, I saw the names of heroes, and I knew the best was lost; I heard the choir singing, but there was no one there, And then there was a stillness in the air. I remembered my classroom, a green field, and the games, And each sporting 'First Eleven', in their special picture frames; But a man from the Company was tugging at my sleeve, And reluctantly I knew I had to leave. The very next day, when I passed that hallowed ground, I saw men and machinery, and I heard the dreadful sound, Of the building that I loved been slowly torn apart, And that left an empty feeling in my heart. This was my school, and those were my years, That's why I had returned, perhaps to find some souvenirs; Yet nothing could match the memories, that I'll share with all my friends, And hope that we are wiser, when the final lesson ends.