Nostalgia

My greatest addiction is nostalgia and the boarded up windows of my childhood. With the indulging excitement of a youthful innocence. The beckoning calls of sweet songs of past entice through rose tinted spectacles, The garden fence sits rusty and the fruit rotten. Time will never stop aging, much as we run to keep up, losing our breath in the frosty air. Childhood memories cherished, slip away from fingers outstretched, into the fog of time passed. Leaving with only a faint trace of what once was. And misguided expectations of what will be.