Least Read Poems About Nostalgia

There is a  comfort I once used to seek.
From a time I wasn't even able to speak.
It was a doll with beady eyes,her dress pink.

I still remember her black,beady eyes.
And the loads of playing,fantasize.
It had the silkiest,blonde hair.

And her makeup was very fair.
When I was little,I held dear.
And my intentions,attachement towards it was clear.

I still remember the day I received it for my birthday.
My eyes lit up in surprise.
I named her Annabelle,for her beady eyes.

The years passed,and the days went by. ...

When you
FROM THE HOOD,
LIVING in a
RUNNED DOWN,
RURAL NEIGHBORHOOD!!!
When your CHURCH, your SCHOOL,
your BEAUTY SALON,
BARBER SHOP and
the LIQUOR STORE,
is only WITHIN
WALKING DISTANCE,
When the ICE CREAM
TRUCK RUNS during the DAY, and
LATE AT NIGHT!!
WHEN KIDS ARE ON
BIKES, SCOOTERS,
SKATEBOARDS and SKATES,
WHEN YOU BETTER
HURRY HOME QUICK,
the STREET LIGHTS will come ON,
HURRYING HOME BECAUSE IT'S LATE,
When it's a SCHOOL NIGHT,
and YOU have to BE IN BED by 8,
DO...

Had a dream this morning about a sexy, thin girl who committed suicide over some high school drama and then in her ghostly form, just went full on nude. I remember vividly her swimming through this big ass lake. It was...somewhere. Couldn't explain where. Couldn't explain the buildings around her. I remember her driving in her old car everywhere. I remember her simply exploring the Earth without restrictions.

Then, somehow, the blonde girl turned into Diana, a dark chocolate haired girl. My character in my series. And Darryl and Diana were having fun adventures traveling...

Do you remember those days that past in a daze;
those nights when, like a knight, you swept me up in your arms?
After dessert, we'd watch as our friends would desert the dance floor.
We whirled around, you and me, alone in our own little world.
It didn't take two too much effort to tango back in those days -
through our youth, when we threw our most elaborate moves.
Our hearts and souls connected through the soles of our feet.
Here and now, I hear that familiar musical strain, curling around my ears
and I wonder whether we could weather an impromptu...