Memories are like old photographs,
Nothing but a distant reminder.
With subtle vanishing contrasts,
And a silent fading existence.
As the smudges of revisited times
Only slightly coat the reality’s flaws.

They change every time
Even if, just a little.
A little less accurate,
A little more wishful,
A little less permanent,
A little more to be desired.

Both full of the same nostalgia,
But at their essence, poles apart.
Photos are what we choose to see,
Memories are what we truly are.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s