Inside a Photograph
But life without you always was
in case the difference be left unmarked
and if it is to be a means by any love
would it then be better spent inside a photograph
A memory then
to be dragged from its own sad reminiscent domain
a moments hankering
a tear fallen for so much of its own wasted time
Not I this form you crave
all I but a companion to your doubt
and in solitude's despair
before you sought me out
But life without you always was
until it came again to this affair of love
returning with its count of desolate years
unknown in my own tomb
unknown it was in the futures womb
No more of substance than a dream
all those concern of other material things
removing this life from its living
and more than love is wanted in the giving
I walked this grey land inadequate
and expectation delivers to me by fault
and if all of love is never enough
would it then be better kept inside a photograph
You did not love me between the years
and in such brief encounter
echoed back all those forgiven tears
tears fallen for so much of their wasted time
And the years repeat
you were never mine
you are still the same
the photograph has never changed
still locked in seclusion
this self proffered isolation
of all you were
and I could dream to be anything more
than the person inside the photograph
Life without you always was
Copyright © Colin Mitchell Williams | Year Posted 2020
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