Black and White
Christine Summer
Under my bed is a tin box where,
I used to keep your letters, dear,
And our old photographs never changed,
The goofy smile you had, on my shoulder your hand,
It was black and white,
Never fading, never ending.
It was like a sad movie,
Playing in my head when I see,
That old photograph of us,
It was black and white.
It was just so nostalgic,
I can still feel the magic,
Remember the promises, broken,
Still in my heart, stolen.
I tried framing it, once,
It fell, broke and shattered to pieces,
I tried putting it back, twice,
The shards cuts through me,
And I’m bleeding, red.
I burned it with the memories,
Good-bye my little chap,
It was a long good-bye, but it was worth it,
Turn to ashes and fly with the wind,
It was black and it was white.
--------
That moment when you try hard to move on...and this little picture shouts all the memories in your face and all you wanted to do was to burn it away. But I didn't.
Christine.
----
YOU ARE READING
The Words Unsaid
PoetryA compilation of poems that best describes how it feels to be in love and falling out of it.
