They pasted together photos of themselves
On a large blank canvas
The white walls of its surfaces a daily reminder of their blank slates
so it was and so it is
As one day ends a new photo is entered
And a pressing sense of contentment permeates the homestead
Till truth boils over into resentment
And photos are stripped from the walls now.
in a heart beat when mended wounds have time to heal
They plaster their board with fond memories of details
Details of decals of moments in their memories
And the joyous colors of technicolor
Will erase the broader stretches of time
And if someone chose to
They would see the bleeding colors
that stained the pure white canvas
They tried as they could and despite what they tried
failure never failed to follow their fractured selves
Till what they loved on the wall
was a fiction that someone else could tell
for though it was their faces
What they felt in the now
Was not the present truth
and the past was a ghost
For a place inside that was haunted.
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