Reminisce (PART TWO)

The Photos

A life that it is living, is a life of  black and white,

Time doesn't pass, and we're blinded by the sight,

It flickers on and off, like a person's volatile state,

So your photos watch with keenness, for you are far too late.

The past is trapped behind it, looking for others to ensnare,

Reaching out to those who look behind, people who will dare.

They don't know the lives of many, of which others have been through,

For the world that still surrounds them, has erased the forgotten ones out too.

The children laugh and smile, their bliss smattered across their face,

But the photos turn an ashen grey, because it knows about our race.

It has been told what is gone, and what is still left behind,

For they only choose to remember, the mere turmoil of their mind.

And these stupidly innocuous humans, pretending that they know,

That time can still move on, and time will still continue to grow,

The past is your burdening chain, that are nothing but a puppet's twine,

You cannot wipe what continues to linger, and pretend that your world is fine.

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As you can see, I couldn't really think of a better title.