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Flashbacks

flashbacks,nostalgia,a view of the past,poetry on past,poetry on flashbacks,sad poetry,once again,poem on nostalgiaThe same old books we've read before
The same old chapter flipping back and forth,
The same old words we've heard before
The same old endings on the verge of henceforth.

Like that stone on the table unturned
Dried tears on the pillowcase, so sordid
Hidden regrets smirk at the lessons learned
Glistening shadows so well hid!

Calm and lifeless on a Saturday morning ,
A bit too late to figure it out
Bygone days,they come back with a little ping
That's all they are always talking 'bout.



Black smiles smeared on the lofty fences,
Glaring at the drizzle through my misty lenses.
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