Photographs
I pulled an old photograph
Out of a lonely box
Laying on the side of the road in a ditch
Half submerged with a broken lock
The first photo was of a girl
No more than the age of ten
From that moment forward
Is where the journey began
I found it strange that every shot she was in
She appeared alone
Yes, she stood in every picture by herself
As I watched her grow
I saw one in her teenage years
In a captured moment where she was deeply in love
The grin she had from ear to ear
Told the story well enough
Time moves on rather quickly
And so did the photos of her life
I came next to a picture where
She became someones wife
Shortly after there was a photo
Where you could see her husband went off to war
It showed in the sadness of her eyes
That he never did return
Just by the expression on her face
I knew what she was going through
And that the love they both had shared
Is what she had most valued
From that point on there was photo after photo
Where she had never found another
It showed in the deepening lines across her face
Her husband had been her only lover
The last picture that I came to
Was of a woman on her death bed
That is when I closed the box
And never opened it again
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