Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
The shutter clicks twice. "You take too many pictures" But you pay me no mind. The years fly by and, As you begin to forget I keep asking why. Still you smile at me, Though I've become a stranger Lost in memory. I bring your pictures. "Remember when we lived here? Or these light fixtures?" I brought your tapes but, Your bed is empty now. Mourning your lost shape. When you left I found Your philosophy makes sense now. There's so much beauty That can't afford to be lost. I look one last time At the first picture You took with that camera Now gathering dust.
0
Apr 15, 2019
Apr 15, 2019 at 11:25 PM UTC
Camera
The shutter clicks twice. "You take too many pictures" But you pay me no mind. The years fly by and, As you begin to forget I keep asking why. Still you smile at me, Though I've become a stranger Lost in memory. I bring your pictures. "Remember when we lived here? Or these light fixtures?" I brought your tapes but, Your bed is empty now. Mourning your lost shape. When you left I found Your philosophy makes sense now. There's so much beauty That can't afford to be lost. I look one last time At the first picture You took with that camera Now gathering dust.
A collaborative project with Liberty Urban. This poem is inspired by one of her paintings.
isabella-howard
Written by
Apr 15, 2019
Apr 15, 2019 at 11:25 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem