Nostalgia Of The Youth

Sometimes I love to reminisce the
Lovely nostalgia of the youth,
The mundane smell of a colorful classroom
In elementary school
While you dreaded schoolwork and only cared
To socialize freely with peers, never knowing
When your last moments would be with them.
The seconds felt like minutes,
The minutes felt like hours,
And the hours felt like days.
You had nothing but time yet you
Enjoyed it nonetheless,

And eventually you sat in wooden desks,
Rushing through the hallways,
Sitting in classrooms, the colors of the walls fading year by year,
The perspective of time moving at a faster rate as you grew older,
The minutes finally felt like minutes,
The hours finally felt like hours,
And the days finally felt like days.

Soon we enter the world our system raised us to be in
Perhaps some roses wilted on us along the way,
But you can’t seem to forget the meaning they brought to you
Despite the absence of their presence,

It’s hard to believe that you were once running around
The playgrounds so carefree
Without ever knowing those experiences weren’t free,
For the price of nostalgia was your time,
And in return,
Your days now feel like hours,
Your hours now feel like minutes,
And your minutes now feel like seconds.

It feels angry to accept,
It feels sad to desire,
But it is lovely to reminisce,
The lovely nostalgia of the youth.