Finding Myself

Two old pictures
hang on a wall
faded with age
I stare and wonder
What it would be like
to live only
through a picture
Old dark clothing
and pale faces that barely smile
every time I walk downstairs
I feel like I'm being watched
Why do they smile like that?
What were they thinking?
Will I someday hang on a wall
And be stared at with wonder
Will my clothing look strange?
Will they be scared of what my eyes tell?

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