Keep going back to a memory,

Suppose that’s the objective

When memory hollers out,

Gives no choice but to feel.

Always an option to care,

Or disavow its pleasure,

For shedding memories

With selfish motive.

This is a familiar night,

Another celebration 

Occurs in separate rooms,

Feeling the blues rock on.

There’s a better road ahead,

Say all the past poets with dreams.

I guess that’s the way we find home,

A new walkway to relive sweet nostalgia.