Switching between four homes as a child

Thinking of them with nostalgia, bittersweet mild

One with two stories with bougainvillea like ivy

I remember running through the halls, young and lively

The walls were originally painted a pure white

But now they are an orangish pink, a quirky sight

I remember memories of a tree with a bent back

And gnarled roots and structure like a wood rack

I remember trying to climb it when I was five

Envious of older siblings who would climb so high

One on the third floor of an apartment building

In the middle of a city among other buildings

I remember tree branches brushing the balcony

Upset about third-grade drama, in agony

Dreaming of a house that was once painted white

Of a house an ocean away now orange and bright

With bougainvillea over the wall like ivy tendrils

With a tree with a canopy of forest emerald

I remember always taking the bus home alone

In the crowded bus feeling so small and alone

I remember drawing on the window secretly

Over the window mist and would cover up quickly

When someone came in for I knew they'd scold me

And still draw on the window of cartoons of Disney

One of four large rooms that were so stuffy in Summer

Watching the sunset out draining out of color

Into the night filled with streetlights and lights from the town

Filled with low, buzzing traffic sounds all around

I remember the laughter and memories

Of climbing staircases and of naming trees

I remember lying on the grass staring into the sky

Watching a lone bird, so free and high, flying right by

Wishing I could escape from this dreadful, dull place

So much pain and confusion in this empty, lonely place

And I'd dream of an apartment an ocean away

Of trees brushing balconies an ocean away

But the grass is not greener on the other side

And there are pros and cons on any side

I remember watching customers come and go, come and go

And how my dad's restaurant broke down not so long ago

Now I live in a small yard with just enough room for five

But it is here that I discovered myself and became alive

- In this small house so many storms happened

Storms no weatherman could have predicted and

So many tears have the pillows collected at night

Over pain and hopelessness that just didn't seem right

But it was these storms that I walked out of a new person

And I dream of becoming a better and better person

And here I reminisce of a white house and a tree

Of a cozy building apartment on the floor three

Of a restaurant building of watching a lone bird

Of the one I'm in now and all the things I've learned

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question of the day

→ what are some things that give you nostalgia?