There is always a surprise,
in what a mere picture can hold,
in such a thin frame,
pausing a moment in time forever,
until it fades and brittles away,
luck of it,
of how it struck a new cord,
that plays in a song,
a simple song,
a nursing rhyme,
for how that simple moment,
is that when things were a little easy,
to comprehend,
for such a gorgeous,
unspeakable like it,
is real,
held in one hands,
to remember,
how in so of it,
that trying to heave the lungs,
to take air,
that only seem to lack away,
in a pain,
nor in might of sorrow,
no far from it,
laced them up,
remembering it,
feeling the tug on a slow drool bleeding wound,
taking its toll,
with a cry,
that just soar offs,
into a scream,
in hopes to not let it go,
as just for a picture to be lovely,
the moments it can catch,
are also the painful stills,
that are hard to shoulder,
alone or not,
but as it is said,
best to never forget it,
keep it in the back,
of one’s mind,
but don’t let it consume someone’s soul,
it can’t have that hold,
not forever,
just a breaking marble bead,
that rolls away,
lost somewhere under a couch,
not found,
until by accident,
sheer points of it,
because by then,
there is laughter,
not tears,
or switched,
depending on how it plays out,
were says akin to a photo,
hold more,
than just a mean phase,
of someone whom can’t take a joke,
it goes beyond that,
where to,
is another type of learning,
of the skin traps,
shape on whole,
taking way down,
to a harbor,
dyed with thoughts,
a lone ship rested,
by the dock,
about to set sail,
only needing a captain,
a shadow ghost,
that even haunts it,
only add character to it,
in a new light,
that picture does more,
snapped easily it was,
but the meaning behind it,
the viewer is the only one,
that knows,
and what do to,
is all up to them,
stay by the harbor,
or set sail and see the world,
grasped that photo tightly,
for it is the only compass that will help you,
on a level ground basic straight.




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