I keep all the photos, of the two of us together,
Because photos never change, they stay the same, forever
And I can look at all my photos, and I can look into your eyes
I have seen each one before, so I am never surprised
And I can look at your face, and upon stone it is set
I never have to fear, that you may be upset
And I don’t have to worry, that your smile it might fade
And every day, the same you have stayed
And there is no worry you may be in fear
Or when I look into your eyes, that I may see a tear
And I could sit down, and with you at my side
No matter what I looked like; I was happy inside
My arm, it is round you, it is holding you near,
There is nothing more precious, there is nothing more dear.
To see your hair crystallised as it blows in the breeze
I could sit with you, and feel days pass by with ease.
But now the days they feel like years and the seconds feel like days
And life feels bleak and pointless in a million other ways
And I feel that it has been long enough,
The coffee is never strong enough
And in every photo of you
Your eyes turn grey from blue
And though the photo has greyed
My feelings never fade
And although the edges torn
And the corners somewhat worn
Although all these things I see
They're still perfect to me.
... I miss you.
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Comments about this poem (Photos by Harry Radcliffe )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
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