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Last Piece of The Pie
Nostalgia– it's delicate,
keeps you floating
over the living life.
The courtesy of thoughts,
to never escape;
the burden of a bridge over the knife.
Nostalgia– it's endearing,
with the little peace, it to tie;
That comes around like a mother's blessing,
A hand over your head
that seems to move the sky.
Nostalgia– in that homemade pie,
that's every bite speaks of comfort.
Probably, the comfort was the presence of family,
that fought for the last piece,
that somehow larger occurred.
Nostalgia– stay around please,
when they say to leave your past behind.
As there's no tomorrow better,
and no today, that would to relive you, not strive.
© Supriya Baranwal
keeps you floating
over the living life.
The courtesy of thoughts,
to never escape;
the burden of a bridge over the knife.
Nostalgia– it's endearing,
with the little peace, it to tie;
That comes around like a mother's blessing,
A hand over your head
that seems to move the sky.
Nostalgia– in that homemade pie,
that's every bite speaks of comfort.
Probably, the comfort was the presence of family,
that fought for the last piece,
that somehow larger occurred.
Nostalgia– stay around please,
when they say to leave your past behind.
As there's no tomorrow better,
and no today, that would to relive you, not strive.
© Supriya Baranwal
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