The photograph hangs on the wall
It brings to me things of the past
Memories lie behind it
Bringing back the old in the memory of the young
Years pass by without me knowing it
The photograph fades and corrodes
Yet, moments of the past lives on with it
It remains to be regardless of the present things
Generations had serve their end
And still, I am left alone with it
I hope to leave it behind for me to move on
But, how come I still hold to it dearly?
I found out that it is alive
It breathes the air of companionship
And tries to see me inside and out
It walks with me wherever I go
My present is now lived with the portrait still hanging on the wall
It will always be a reminder of the things that had passed
The past that has opened its window through the photograph
It survive life’s long trod path–living another day to tell its tale
