When we had too much time on our hands
yet never ran out of things to say.
When we thought we knew everything,
when every path was the right way.
Silences used to be complete;
silver nights after a sparkling day.
Something about the days gone by
makes us want to rewind them and replay.
But maybe it is not that simple.
Maybe we are looking back the wrong way.
Maybe it seems easier because we fought
and lived to fight another day.
We can take a stroll down memory lane
but it’s not a worthy place for us to stay.
For nostalgia is a sepia toned b*h
who distracts you as today slips away.
NaPoWriMo Day #8
Poetry form: Quatrain
— The End —