The Photo Frame

The Photo Frame short poem

Photo by mrcangrejero

It was a photograph, as old as
Their marriage, of both of them.
His face radiating her fulsome bliss,
Now eroded, tarnished and frayed

At the edges, slowly, yet surely.
Trying to tear him out of mind,
She turned over the photo frame.
Nonchalantly at first, and then

It became a pattern she followed
In the other rooms of ‘their home’.
One room after another, she scanned
The spaces, to peel him off the walls

Trying to pour him out like foul wine,
Wiping off his traces from her heart.
Though not in the frame of her vision,
He was still there in the photograph

She had bitterly turned upside down.
She could not remove him entirely
As he continued to live with them,
In bits and pieces, around the house,

In many frames of her reminiscences
Which could not, all be thrown out.
But these got swathed in the burning
Bitterness of betrayal and howling hurt.

In her real life family portrait now, there were
Only her cherubs, who were beleaguered with
Extreme ambiguity towards their runaway dad
How would she fill the gap and heal this hurt?

Her hurt had malformed into hatred, while
The nurturer had twisted into a nightmare.
The wounds were still too raw and sore to
Harness her inner power in this adversity.

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Archana Kaul

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Experienced researcher and freelance writer, who has written articles for newspapers on various subjects. An articulate teacher, with experience of teaching students of History B.A. (Honours). Possess communication and analytical skills that helped while working (teaching dance and theatre) with young children in the voluntary sector. Running a Non Profit Organisation in East Delhi, Srijanatmak Manushi Sanstha
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3 Comments on "The Photo Frame"

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The sad tearing down of the marriage institution as it ages….haunting!

Shabeeh Kamoonpuri

This is awesome write. keep writing.


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