Nostalgia
Not only a dusty attic, crammed with forgotten things,
But a bittersweet symphony, the heart in memory sings.
The air hangs heavy, thick with "what ifs" and "maybes" past,
A faded photograph, a moment held, forever meant to last.
The firelight dances on forgotten faces, ghosts in yellowed frames,
A silent echo of laughter, whispers of forgotten names.
Not just from embers glowing, but a love that time can't erase,
A yearning for simpler moments, a longing for a slower pace.
Like smoke that curls and vanishes, a fleeting, fragile thing,
The past, a wisp of memory, on nostalgia's gentle wing.
Hold it close, this tender ache, a bittersweet refrain,
For in the tapestry of time, nostalgia soothes the pain.
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