They say that the time never stops
But didn’t they tell you that I can even stop drops?
It’s me, the photograph, who’ll hold you
Till the time it gets better, even if the time flew
People say that I’m just a copy, just an ‘it’
But I’m capable of holding moments, making everything lit
I’ll make you remember those spring birds
I’ll make you cherish flowers of what you’ve heard
I’ll make you cry by those gestures so small
I’ll make you wonder by those abstracts you call
And I’ll make you feel a thing called love
And a thing called memory
And a thing called home
Cause it’s me, the photograph, who’ll hold you
Till the time it gets better, even if the time flew

18 Jan. 17
21:57