Did you know you could miss a room?
A desk, a chair,
A bookshelf,
All things move, you carry on,
Marching forever onward,
Always forward,
Don’t look back,
Life whispers in your ear,
But once in a while,
For no reason in particular,
Maybe, you used to have,
A pen stand, which looked just like that,
All at once, you find yourself,
In the bittersweet nostalgia,
Of old lost things,
As your face grows wet,
Perhaps your heart too.
