nostalgia hits me like a train

nostalgia hits me like a train,
to the point vines crawl through the cracks of my old wall,
surrounding the grime of my old soul until i see no filth at all,
the flowers have withered, dried, and died under my old tree,
must i mourn a mind that feels like a living cemetery?
or shall i just roam the forest that forever calls me?
oh sonder, i even miss the days i spent with total strangers,
like a mushroom that shows itself unseen, i linger
i go where vines crawl, where flowers bloom, where all is lost in vain,
i step onto the railway and let nostalgia hit me like a train.