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by Sedgewick

Nostalgia is creeping in
Hoping that tomorrow will last
Moment by moment, soaking it in
Reeling in the line
Holding on to people leaving fast
Telling myself I'll be fine

Missing memories of friends
Leaving in due time—grasping at vines
Held by what I'll leave behind

Future is knocking on my door
Telling me what to do
Forcing me into this land of the poor
Gone to gather my tears
Ask my father what happens next?
And he tells me a decision dawns—one I fear

Contributed by Logan F. Suggest a correction in the comments below.
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