The Scrapbook

It wasn’t what I was searching for at the time
When I saw it, I was compelled to look within
Carrying it to the couch, I took a deep breath
To open it, memories would flood once again.

As I turned pages, it was like a trip back in time
Walking down paths of time with each photo
Laughing at all the crazy things life had shared
A tear at times for moments only two can know.

With each page that was turned the years melted
Family growing from thought to the present day
Each photo a moment to remember special ones
At times they leave us with words we can’t say.

Photo albums and scrapbooks, our life in images
So many memories, the good mixed with the sad
We build them for our self and to give them away
Reminders for years to come of the lives we had.


About graypoet

Just one that at times puts the words to the page and lets them fall as they might.
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