"Who are you?" I asked an old photograph
Lying on the floor covered with dust, it's color faded.
"I was" it sighed, a voice like brittle paper's rustle
I was a smile that didn't know the years would fade
A memory in light and shadow carefully made
"Who are they?" I asked
Two young fellows who once had dreams
They were once inseparable, like the tongue and teeth
And here I am, alone, a silent witness of a story fall
My purpose was to hold what time could not contain
Joy, smile, pain, and a story
"You're not sad? To be worn"? I asked
A smile escaped the faded paper
I'm a memory from which new thoughts are born
I am the past, though faded, I'm still not meant to die