The Darkroom
my darkroom
where i develop film
filled with chosen memorys
taken for my brain
to remember
the week of yesterday
with churchbells in the background
as your face fills the frame
this paper
submerged in this solvent
brings to life an image
no other like on earth
it rises
drip dries on a string
with a red bulb for company
and a locked door just the same
scattered
torn up on the floor
the pieces of a lifetime
shattered by a closing door
your bags packed
before i got back home
now a tearfull night like always
since you had to go
Copyright © Matt Doe | Year Posted 2007
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