A picture holds a beautiful
sight, solid in time,
a creation to caress.

Like a memory,
but one that is not forgotten.

So many pictures,
so many memories,
Which is better?

The day time stops
is when death claims another,
and another,
and another,
leaving ONLY MEMORIES.

A picture on the wall,
later in a picture book.

Make sure you write down the names
or those pictures,
those memories of once life
are scattered leaves,
making a whizzing sound in the wind,

forever forgotten,
for time stops
as memories fade.