and all at once I'm seventeen open-eyed and wide-hearted
taking the bus home from work late in my dad's leather jacket
worn out shoes and transit tickets and that stupid Pink Floyd t-shirt
with hopes high as the buildings I dreamed of living in someday
on my way back to homework, leftovers and a messy room.
I've fallen in love with nostalgic realism in poetry. Ironically, this is the style I began writing poetry with, years ago. I love characterizing a nobody with distinct and simple details.