D. Richards

In a dirty envelope,
Hidden in my desk,
Waits a bad lit photo
Of him on some beach.
He stands with a smile,
And a stranger by his side.
It's jut a poorly taken photo
Of two people I will never meet.
I stumble across his envelope
Mostly while I'm cleaning.
Opening it cautiously because
I forget it's just him.

In a crinkled envelope,
Forgotten in my desk,
There's the only picture
That can make me cry.
He's standing on the beach
Not knowing I exist.
Smiling at the camera
Trapped in my secret photo
Sleeping in my desk.
Too good for a white envelope
But too scary for a frame.
So I hide him in the drawer
Just a badly taken picture
Of someone I can't meet.