As I turn the pages of an album that was covered in dust,
I study each page,
And feel tears well up in my eyes.
As I look at each picture, I remember the good times,
I simply cry;
And somewhere in the midst of my tears,
I wish there is such a thing to turn back time.
But on the cover of this album it said,
“Pictures are moments captured on paper not frozen in time.”
And deep in my heart I know, as each day passes,
These pictured grow with time,
And so do I.
And I know that there is no way to stop the sun from rising,
And setting,
And to keep each day from passing.
So I look at the last picture, I wipe my eyes.
And I close the old album,
Until next time.
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