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Wistful

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Nostalgic, awake; in my bed I pine
Unable to reign over my own head
Reminiscing on days that once were mine

I dust away the cloaking cobwebs, hoping to refine
But, yet, struggle to focus on the present that embeds
Nostalgic, awake; in my bed I pine

For these hallowed memories I've created a shrine
Towards which, so unstable, I best not tread
Reminiscing on days that once were mine

The sounds and the feelings intimately intertwine
Now comes the clarity of my memories I dread
Nostalgic, awake; in my bed I pine

For the days I treasure, when bliss wed fine
Unable to return there, and so here I lie instead
Reminiscing on days that once were mine

But feeling so wistful, I try to decline
Emotions that many times I have failed to shed
Nostalgic, awake; in my bed I pine
Reminiscing on days that once were mine





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