Reach for the thick spined book on the bottom shelf
That everyone has ignored,
dust off the cover and think:
what am i really doing
Because nobody ever knew until they tried...
A scrapbook
It reflects on the deepest puddles
It lightens the cracked palms of the shattered souls
It's reaching out and caressing the damages of time itself
As is father time had any say
Telling the stories you can't seem to remember
Reminding you of the ones you have forgotten
Because they say
A picture,
It's worth a thousand words.