Nostalgia

That ancient enemy

The shiner of the tarnished, that anachronistic foe

It arrives with pleasantries, but never leaves the same

It tells you all the wonderful things that happened in your past,

But when it departs, it leaves a bitterness unequaled in the world

If squalor had a feeling, nostalgia would be its definition

There are few defenses to this heartless foe excepting apathy

Give up your emotions, let your heart die

Or you’ll find the monster pressing on your present

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s