The radio plays a familiar tune
As people and trees flash past
Like the reel of an old school silent film.
It's the smell of a brand new day,
One that jolts back your longing
For excitement and the childish nerves.
But no, this is not nostalgia.
The feelings are lost in the mundane
Of the same cologne you wear
Of the same route you take
The reflection of the past is a dreary one
A watered down version of your life
A conviction that your past was beautiful
Nothing is ever the same, is it?
Or do we cling on to our old habits
To find false comfort in the familiar
Only to forget the smell of a brand new day.
Posted via LiveJournal app for iPhone.