Nostalgia
Why did I buy
An aging toy?
That car
of fine silhouettes.
Imagined me,
A little boy,
Riding with him,
My late father.
Near bare a motorway
and his merry laughter,
I simply cannot forget.
Why do I
store windows?
They decay.
Call numerous doors,
They stay.
A heap of oriental rugs,
Filling up skilled floors,
Gathering dust,
Eroded by ghastly bugs.
Again!
Why do I
still believe
in” love thy neighbor? ”
Think the area
prime and safer.
I Pause I sigh,
Feigning the smile
so fairly shy,
I keep on painting.
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| oldmedina | 
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