That Old Picture

That's me standing with eyes wide open

Confused and bewildered, perhaps

About why you do this to me

You dress me up and click away

Into a plastic memory.



The dress, the shoes and a pretty hat

The colored backdrop that's all fake

And the only piece that is true

Is my ever confounded glare

A slightly open mouth, too.



Hands up on sides like all I wanted

Was to let me go on with life

Scoop me up in your arms and then

I'll not be so discomfited

With this irksome regimen



Faded corners and the brittle sides

Eroded sheen on the outside

But see the yearning in these eyes

Credulous I, facing the vain world

Soon to drown me in its lies.