Innocent and naive
Small and young
Pretty and warm

But the edges are frayed
The frame a little chipped
The wood spilt
And hanging by a thread

Stich and thread
Time and effort
So much strength
To and another thread
Onto that nail

One by one
A picture is hung back up
It is not what it was
Nor what it could have been

The wood has rot
The nail a little bent
But the picture still hangs
And beautiful and straight as ever