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Nostalgic
I moved away from many a friend,
And my childhood is coming to an end,
What I believed in isn’t real,
And no one gets how I feel,
About why I want to be a child again.
I was naive, exuberant and free,
Not one serious thought to sober me,
There was no way to suspect,
I would one day reflect,
On things that I never thought would enter my memory.
Some nights I practically cry,
And others I can almost fly,
Because I know when I awake,
My feelings will give me a break,
And I will live in an illusion on never having to say goodbye.
Sometimes a sensation takes me to when I lived away,
And I am so lost there is nothing I can say,
I feel so sad and happy all at once,
And I think of when we were just runts,
And I think, why do we have to be cursed in this way?
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I wrote this while feeling nostalgic, and I hope others can relate. This is my first real poem.