I was hit by inspiration this morning,
What a lovely thing it was.
To be taken over, feel words flowing;
And then my hands came undone.
He was not the cause of my words.
Oh, no. Not you again.
It took place in an idea of sorts-
Nostalgia, my old friend.
That electric shock I used to feel, I fear is dwindling,
As the ghost of my past all came to me,
The fire to my kindling.
Now I’d be a fool to think I could go back,
To hold on to what once was.
But now I use it as a comparison-
What any female does.
Nostalgia, nostalgia, you are my unwanted home,
But perhaps you brought me back to see,
My hearts does want to roam.