1 2 3 smile

In five years
Everyone will assume I blew the moment.

But I’d still think of it as a missed holiday.
A memory that would probably be buried
But it still lingers around.

A photograph will be all I have.
When everyone forgets
A photograph will remind me
And when my hair turns completely gray,

I know the holidays are a memory
not an illusion or dream, just a distant memory.
Hence, I always took a photo.
But now it’s different.

I had photos of them.
There was no photo with them.
Nonetheless, a photograph is a memory.

By Tulip/CASSayuran