Life has passed
me by
in photographs.
One blurrier than
the other.
I see my parents‘
young, rounded faces.
I spend so much
time wasted,
being upset
with them.
I see my
brothers in quilted blankets,
their sweet baby
faces.
My once younger
grandparents
and their crooked
smiles,
with cigarette smoke
in trays.
I get the sense
nothing ever stays
the same.
Nov 28, 2025
Nov 28, 2025 at 2:44 PM UTC
Life has passed
me by
in photographs.
One blurrier than
the other.
I see my parents‘
young, rounded faces.
I spend so much
time wasted,
being upset
with them.
I see my
brothers in quilted blankets,
their sweet baby
faces.
My once younger
grandparents
and their crooked
smiles,
with cigarette smoke
in trays.
I get the sense
nothing ever stays
the same.
