Photograph

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It crumpled with a gentle squeeze
Tarnished memory, like a breeze
Each time it’s found, it brings disdain
And gives me fresh incite to pain

It seems like it was yesterday
Yet what’s in my hand has aged with time
A thing of past, a time let go
A time my heart just didn’t know

It’s the aging of the eyes
The wrinkles that contain a soul
A memories hook, a book of lies
We tell ourselves to keep control

It’s self-medicating, it’s devastating
It’s the new breaths we draw inside ourselves

Cause without self-convincing
We’d all show how broken we truly are

Cause it’s the survival of a day
The past we hold, and throw away
The present we cling, and hold so dear
And slowly wipe away as a tear

Without the strands there’d be no whole
We’d be puppets without soul
So take this paper deep in hand
And gaze upon a piece of time

In it’s reflection, a hardened mind
Eyes that grew to seek for life
And act as though it’s never there
The thought that acts as a knife

The past, it molds us to be
And gives our eyes new sights to see
Growing with our every step
Holding close the things we’ve kept
Like walking cracks within a line
The steps that lead a larger climb
Each lesson something that forever binds
Pieces of the past that cling to the mind

And teach us who we truly are

The desperation that we know
Is when our truest colors show

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