Analysis of Nostalgia (In the tone of a confession)

I faintly remember,
the soft, tender arms
the sweet, melodious voice
and the warm, cozy folds
of my mother's lap,

Those arms and lap, I frequently failed on.

I remember,
the able, striking arms
the harsh, guiding voice
and the wise, tender look
of my mentor's face

The arms and voice, I frequently failed on.

I clearly remember,
the warm, hugging arms
the lovey, kissing voice
and the gripping angel love
of my friend's heart

The arms and love, I frequently failed on.

Time passes... in phases

Now I am alone,
living my life, rather respectfully but in disdain
no tender arms
no guiding voice
no angel love
just me, my room and, my life
Serene, but lonely.

And today
I still live by the sweet thoughts of yesteryears,
facing the fallacies of today,
wishing to go to a tomorrow
where all of you reside, beside and still smile at me.