| That Picture |
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| From across the room, on the little table, it calls to me, Singing the song in a voice as alluring as his, Calling to me in its mesmerizing way, Urging me to approach a little bit more. It sparkles almost as vibrantly as his eyes once did. It is almost as bright as his shining smile. From across that room or even miles away, It never fails to make my heart soar. That picture of him in the corner, It captured his eyes and his smile forever, It beckons to me when my soul is lost And it never leaves that corner, on that table, on the second floor. I look into those still eyes for hours Captivated by the emotion and love they once held I memorize his hands and long for them to hug me again, Trying to remember what about them I always adored. As I struggle to hear his voice, Through that old picture across the room, I know that I will never hear it again, Nor will his hands ever emerge from that frozen paper core. But then I look deeper into that picture, And I lift it up from that table. The people around him were so happy, Laughing like I did, that day at the shore. That day when the sun fell upon our hair, Warming us and urging us to stay forever, Opening up our hearts and our minds, Leaving behind every barrier and every door. That day he did not stop smiling, And I supposed I did not either. That day that was captured by that picture, And reminds me of all that he stood for. With his memories and his warmth, I am supported by his strength and wisdom. Now that picture in that corner, Stands taller and prouder than ever before. |