Someday,
I will stumble across
Piles of dusty photos.
That haven't seen
The light of day in years.
My children will point
To photos of grinning teenagers
And ask
"Who are they?"
Memories will come flooding back
Into my brain
The late nights,
The uncontrollable laughter,
The adventures, we all knew
We shouldn't have been on.
But we were young and carefree.
And I will respond
"It was with them that I had the best days of my life."
The old faces
Perhaps will spark a tear or two.
Thoughts might run through my head,
Like how do such close friends just
Drift apart?
So I will pick up the phone
Dial a number, and pray it still works
And wait for the sound of a comforting voice
To bring me back to my happy days.
-
Author:
Skye Bellasario (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: October 12th, 2017 16:33
- Category: Friendship
- Views: 9
- User favorite of this poem: Accidental Poet.
Offline)
Comments1
I love the stories those old photographs tell. I had to laugh when I read about your kids asking "Who are they?" All the memories that come racing back to mind. I hope all your old friends phone numbers still work. Great write sky. ; )
Thank you AP! Me too, a photo can say a thousand words 🙂
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