The Photograph

Sometimes a single smile in the photograph,
Can bring thousand memories back.
As I wipe away the dust from the old photograph,
I am overwhelmed with the flashback.
Even before the dust could fall off,
I relived each and every moment.
The glance which I could feel with my eyes,
Was shattered with the truth of today.
Every time I tried to regain myself,
All of the efforts just went in vain.
People truly say that they are going to stay with us for life and beyond,
But they forget to complete that it’s only true in the photograph.
The photograph is hung on the wall,
Both are still and strong.
Seeing the one glorifies my face,
And another make me relive those moments again.
And now the dove is far from my reach,
And not even the echo is heard.
As the dust clings on to the printed faces,
I wish I could find happiness and its traces.
The unspoken words know the pain of the creases,
The corners of my heart are still shaded by the color of greases.
Both reminds me of the past,
But unfortunately those days could no longer last.
A jerk in my brain is required,
To take care of the tenderness of the heart, this will open the doors latch.
The trice captured by the camera’s eye,
I don’t know why my vision cannot find that sigh.