Photographs

Photographs short poem

Photo by FeeBeeDee

Think a bit, how may be
It is loved, could never one see
Deep down into his soul
It carries thirst of melancholy
Wishes wrapped in thuggish threads
Coming out of the hellish sea,
Trees of these photographs
Are said to be
Waiting for the winds to come
And make them “he”
Stuck in past, lost in smoke, still and free
Shuffle every part of them to sound the glee
Let photos do the magic everyday- they do
They dance, allude, fly, sing so straggly…

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