By Lucy Brewster (’18)
an empty picture frame resting on a shelf
why is it blank?
it was not always by itself
the wooden frame knew of something else
once it captured a moment in time
that you never wanted to forget
you were happy then- even sublime
yet naive, you didn’t know what was coming yet
but nothing gold can stay
for every moment of happiness you get a moment of pain
how could you have known everything would be taken away
all that was left was a picture in its frame
so you tore that picture out of its wooden cage
tears in your eyes
your chest full of rage
falling only hurt because you flew too high
an empty picture frame resting on a shelf
deserted and blank
scaffold of its former self
The Speakeasy Magazine 