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Truth Of Nostaglia

He wet the rag with excuse and feign
And wiped the shapes of recent days
Tried not to care, but tried in vein
Still the rag was stained in irreconcilable ways
Washed the rag in diversion to got it white
The rag of rumination is hard to put out of sight

Opened the box of faces of long past days
Wiped some and wiped some more
Along with dust wiped the original face
Hoped wasn’t notice’
Self shadow and need’s night
Blocked truth’s sight
Repainted dreamt lover
And thought
Past was better than ever
So it always is!

Back into box they went
To cherish another day
With a new splendor

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