These were better times

this ones kind of old and tbh is it even a poem??

You are sitting in the back of a car, the golden city flying by,

each window glinting orange and pink as the sun begins to set behind you.

The car goes faster and faster still

Until you gently slow to a stop.

Looking down you see a bundle of small white flowers in your lap,

baby's breath or something of the like

as the car begins to pick up speed they begin to sway ever so slightly in the breeze.

It smells of sea and dusk, you do not know where you are going but you are content for the first time in a while,

the sky outside is fading gold and violet

It's so pretty,

you think

It is,

she says

You look to your right and see a girl with wavy black hair thicker than the ocean is deep

But her face
You can't see her face
You can see it when you look at her but once you turn away you can't recall what she looked like,

You hardly even remember that she's there.

She begins to sing a familiar tune

The wind steals her words and carries them away but the melody is clear.

You feel, you feel sad,
No,
Nostalgic
You don't want to leave this memory,

even if it isn't yours

Reviews

[Samuel Dickens]

This seems much like a dream. (Similar to some I've had, at least) We're left with a mystery, the "memory" not belonging to the narrator. Very good writing.

[Madeline]

Thank you!! That's very kind of you to say :3