"Picture this...."

Picture me, outside the frame, would it still be all the same?

Would you miss me at all?

I fill like a faded image in a photograph, someone that you used to see.

But now it seems, those memoires have become just that, why did you let it become of me?

Everything is still so fresh to me but, it seems so stale to you.

Even though, Im still there, you hardly notice me at all.

What if you blinked and I was gone, would you notice anything was wrong at all?

Picture picture, on the wall, if I fell out of focus, would you just let me fall?

Blurry image, like a ghost, it feels like Im haunting your frame.

I used to be, on the front page of your album but, somehow I was placed in the back.

Do you even flip back there at all?