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May 2014
A pretty little photo frame,
dusted every day.
The pretty little picture frame,
on the mantle you will stay.
A pretty little something,
to brighten up my day.
Oh, but, only when I say.

That pretty little frame,
but the photo seems so faded.
It's black and grey and worn,
but don't bother to repair it,
don't dare be that warm.

Ignore that little photograph,
it's not as pretty as it once was.
Wait til need replaces it,
this has never been its home.

That pretty little photo frame,
is broken by the guidance.
That pretty little picture frame,
has fallen and grown dark.
That pretty little something,
is not pretty anymore.
Because, alas, I have decided,
it is not my favorite anymore.
Alyssa Rose Naimoli
Written by
Alyssa Rose Naimoli  New York
(New York)   
595
 
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