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Moving Pictures

A Poem

By Sophie πŸŒ™Published 6 years ago β€’ 1 min read
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"If you can't get rid of the skeleton in your closet, you'd best take it out and teach it to dance"

A withered picture,

in equally withered hands.

No memories lost.

Allow me to understand;

just how fast time flows,

like a storm.

It sweeps away our lives.

Vintage, paved streets,

forgotten escapes;

I cherish.

They manifest in their shapes.

Dated memories,

time can not touch.

How quick the flash,

a flash of memory;

immortalised.

A distant century,

time is not my master.

I can look forward at the past.

Mismatched faces,

no longer belong to their body;

not lost.

All belong to a story,

told through their movements.

Captured in their purest light.

A piece of art,

forever displayed, to behold;

by those it centers.

Encased in the fold,

fold of the paper.

Left to reminisce.

sad poetry
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About the Creator

Sophie πŸŒ™

"Often lost in my own imagination"

Trying to figure out if I have any talent at all for writingπŸ“–πŸŽ¬

Would love to know what people think of my work

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