Nostalgia’s not for me,
The present
is where I long to be.
But when Robert sings,
the past takes wing,
And memories bloom
Like lipstick
they cling.
A tear may gather,
though boys don't cry,
His voice, just like a dream,
drifts through the sky.
Each note,
a thread, weaving time and space,
Binding my heart
to a fleeting embrace.
Dec 3, 2024
Dec 3, 2024 at 5:09 AM UTC
Nostalgia’s not for me,
The present
is where I long to be.
But when Robert sings,
the past takes wing,
And memories bloom
Like lipstick
they cling.
A tear may gather,
though boys don't cry,
His voice, just like a dream,
drifts through the sky.
Each note,
a thread, weaving time and space,
Binding my heart
to a fleeting embrace.
Song, Love Cat's by The Cure.
