Photograph

There’s so much in a photograph,

That sometimes we forget to see,

All the endless tears and pain,

Behind a simple memory.

 

Although I’m smiling there,

With bright eyes and red cheeks,

Can’t you see I’m trying to tell myself,

How little he meant to me in those weeks?

He has messy hair and glasses,

That have a  tiny crack,

From the bullies who corner him,

Behind a teacher’s back.

 

I think it is hard to see real happiness,

Unless you’re in the picture,

In the moment,

Seeing him with her.

 

There are so many times,

My smile was never real,

But no one could ever see,

All the sadness hid inside me.

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