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Amanda Kay Burke Dec 2022
I was glass
You were wood

Picture frame perfect

I found in you the vibrance I was missing to display a beautiful picture

I looked empty before you

As we grew older I learned to depend on you more and more

I stood in your stable embrace

Without your arms lack the strength to keep my thin figure upright

We were useless by ourselves

Together captured a moment to remember forever

It seems so pointless without a photo to reserve each priceless memory
A picture is worth a thousand words
silly Dec 2021
they say that pictures tell a thousand words,
for every lie you tell, another curse
that you’ll never be enough for them
you’ll never make it to the end

because this photograph you gave me,
you hold onto my memories
it shines like a star in the night sky

if every story had an ending of its own,
why is mine cut off
by the white lines that surround the story
of my life

in a photograph
does this make sense probably not L
A living "still picture" if you're living,
A once lived "still memory" if you're dead!!
John McCafferty May 2021
The drops are so much deeper,
and the highs aren't high at all.
Ongoing expectant measures listed,
of these persistent calls to pressure.
To fill a frame that's drained,
when switching off is no longer an option.
Are these real problems or signs of age?

Before was easier, yesterday simpler,
but would the early days help to mould,
when you've already grown from there.
Late observations of missed play,
a rug pull calls out the fool to vacate.
As we're a little bitter in vain,
there's no sweetness today.
(@PoeticTetra - instagram/twitter)
I want to paint you there,
so I never lose you again
even the sun wil set my pain everywhere.
I want to paint you,
but I am not a good painter
who will make you a good picture
in a frame or in the wall
I always hang it out.
I will make you come to see
in the colour
I love it should be.
Indonesia, 2nd April 2021
Arif Aditya Abyan Nugroho
Mico Aug 2020
Be not to be

Like not to like

The same old song

Replayed in time

The same old game

In which i am played

By golden lies

That wax and wane

Falling to rise

To sprout as life

O morning flair!

Come new red light

Just show me how

To fight this fight

Unknot the knot

Untie what's tied

That one makes two

And two makes one

That nothing's wrong

When all is done.
Poetic T Jul 2020
Mindful of others, but always deeper in thought.
You call it the folly of an inquiring mind,

Concern some may say diving to deeply
unsure of where this may take me.
Regarding the complexity of a frame.
I just see more than those who
open a door, and only see the other side.
So if the the hinges hold it what was behind.
Is it wrong to have an interest in more
than what others see as normal without
yearnings to find out what was, what's more.

Where I wished to delve deeper was only
an excuse for others to want it to wither.
never would I intrude, but my searching
eventually causes some unintended pain.
So I relent, I'm curious of the outcome some say.
MsRobota Mar 2020
An empty frame
is not a window
is not a door
is not a mirror
so how do I see
behind the scene?
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