The Gallery
Scenes from my life hang like portraits on the walls of a marble gray immense museum
Each frame tells its own story
The first kiss,
The first smile
The first girl to drive me wild
Single, each picture represents a second
But collectively they confesses that epic call my life
The cold stone and dust give off a damp odor
I walk its halls listen to the echos of my footsteps
Seeing the images transient me to that time, briefly.
Feeling flood the gate, emotion runs the gambit
Sad, gay, sorrow, pain, laughter, joy all in a flash
Then it gone follow by another and a another
Till all I did see frame with blank spaces of things to be
I wonder what moments will be framed
What secret, what shame, what wonder, what fame,
What hunger, what pain and every thing under
The sun, earth and the heavenly rain
THE GALLERY
Each frame tells its own story
The first kiss,
The first smile
The first girl to drive me wild
Single, each picture represents a second
But collectively they confesses that epic call my life
The cold stone and dust give off a damp odor
I walk its halls listen to the echos of my footsteps
Seeing the images transient me to that time, briefly.
Feeling flood the gate, emotion runs the gambit
Sad, gay, sorrow, pain, laughter, joy all in a flash
Then it gone follow by another and a another
Till all I did see frame with blank spaces of things to be
I wonder what moments will be framed
What secret, what shame, what wonder, what fame,
What hunger, what pain and every thing under
The sun, earth and the heavenly rain
THE GALLERY
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