Honey isn’t sweet as it was..
Rain isn’t as special as it was..
That last drop in the teacup doesn’t stare at me like it used to..
Blood circulation to the deeper end of ma legs is not fast as it used to..
No fire..no sunshine..no desire..
Let go..let go..
Joy is too far from its most suitable prefix…
Oooooopsssssssss!!!!!
Is this the state which is known as melancholia.... Simply superb .........
ReplyDeletenostalgia
ReplyDelete