The Attic

The Attic is a short poem that I wrote a good 4-5 years ago. I found it while rummaging through pages from my old dump-table in my grandpa's house in Khardah. I then turned it into a song, which i am going to post below. Its a nostalgic piece, and its very close to the heart, here it goes.

The Attic

After a Saturday night; the sun comes up.
And i'm not feeling so good today.
Its warm outside, but i want to hide,
and wash the hangover away!

And so I make my way up the staircase,
and through the hole in the roof of the hallway.
I get myself into that magical place,
that can turn gloomy nights to day!

CH:

Pictures from the past, and memories that last,
old records and a huge gramophone.
Childhood toys, and the busby boys;
When I'm with them, I don't feel alone.

So I go up to the attic, when I'm feeling blue,
with my heart and mind fast beating.
Coz here lies the truth, lost treasures of my youth,
That helps me get through anything!

- - - -

The room inside should seem dark and cold,
but though the old light bulb's stopped working.
The warm midday rays, give it a sepia tone,
and it gives me a special feeling.

As the sun beats down on the world outside,
I'm rummaging through another dusty stack.
I find new old things; stuff I forgot I ever had,
and they're giving me nostalgia attacks!

CH:

My very first bike, and my broken tri,
My collection of deformed pebbles and stones.
An plastic bow, and dozen broken arrows;
When i'm with them, I don't feel alone.

So I go up to the attic, when I'm feeling blue,
with my heart and mind fast beating.
Coz here lies the truth, special memories of my youth,
That helps me get through anything!

- - - -

I was scared of this place when I was small;
and now it helps me hold on to myself.
It is the first hand that reaches out,
when I'm all alone, and in need of help.

So i come up to the attic when in a shadow of a doubt,
or when life seems awfully shallow and fleeting.
Coz here lies the truth, and references to my youth,
That helps me get through anything!

And now I'm done, coz the sun has set;
and the darkness don't let me see a thing,
I'll go through my pockets, leaving back a souvenir;
for the next time I come back up again...