The people in those pictures are standing right here.
Why would you rather look at a picture of them,
Instead of talking to them?
Do you think that things were perfect
When you look at those pictures?
Do you see a point in time where everything was OK,
Where we all loved one another?
A frozen frame of smiles and adventures
That likely do not tell the full story.
Your distortions are truly epic
And I feel sorry for you.
It pains me to imagine you sitting on your bedroom floor,
Back pressed into the bed-frame,
Goofy grin on your face.
You see perfect, happy, successful times,
Whereas I see childhood on the brink of extinction.
Do you see something I don’t?
Why would you rather look at a picture,
When the real thing is only fifteen minutes away?
Living, breathing, evolving
Into a being so different from the one in that picture.
Why would you rather remember us from then,
Than see us as we are now?
You’ll take fifteen years ago over fifteen minutes away;
And that is why, I will never understand you.



Leave a comment