Poem- The Photograph

Why am I enamoured with the past?

Even though I always think of the future

The past in objects, pictures, melodies and words

Fly through my imagination like birds

It’s strange that I find myself so enchanted with eras gone by

And it’s a shame that I have not been able to let go my history

There is a look in her eyes, the fading woman in the vintage photograph

I’m holding

Her eyes are like mine, full of expressions

So much emotion, that her extravagance can’t hide her disdain

They are lined with the blackest liner

Just like my eyes

She is wearing a smile like a jewel

And even that can’t hide her pain

Her dress flows with the tassels

Of the new found freedom in fashion

The newest piece of haute couture

But her disillusionment is clear as day

perhaps she was a debutante like Daisy

Or a flapper maybe

Or someone else real

But that world is a fairy-tale to me

She doesn’t exist in her sadness, does she?

Only in her glamour

It’s funny how that’s all we capture

The faint beauty of the rapture

I’m sure her heart broke like a million little stars

I’m sure she felt lonely

I’m certain she broke apart

time and time again

But as I look at her picture

She is just a mirage

And me I’m looking at her sepia toned photograph

Thinking to myself

I wish I was there

Because I feel out of place here

And once more I will tell myself

She probably felt the same way

Each and every day

I have the freedom to say this today

Because of the tears she cried yesterday.

And yet I’m enamoured with her past

And haunted by mine

Maybe now is the time

to fade the past like her photograph

And finally erase it from my mind.

-Anshudha Garimella

Published by anshudha

Hi, I'm a singer, song-writer, poet and lifestyle blogger. I'm inspired by music, philosophy, fashion and most importantly nature...

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