The sun light shining through my window but only enough to welcome me to the day. The birds are chirping only waiting for me to rise from my bed, stretch, and meditate for a minute or two. The wafting smell of coffee beans and oatmeal fill my senses as I stroll into the kitchen, but half asleep. The blue sky or maybe grey will greet me as I slide the window open to great the morning air, one with the residue of last nights rain. The morning walkers quickly walk past my window only having a conversation of their own with a friend or a lover. The 5 am shift started and the 6 am is soon to be, the cars cruising past. The children at play before breakfast is served, sidewalk chalk and a box of matchsticks, mom said never to play with. The day looks inviting, may I join?
Nostalgia is Clumps of brown sugar in your oatmeal. Hurts you teeth to bite down, But it's sugary sweet, And good for mornings staring into your bowl. You never really realize how watered down nostalgia is When you can always add more sweetener While trying to remember why it was so good in the first place.
the assignment was to compare an emotion to a breakfast food.