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The Photograph

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Remember the world as black and white,
without value or confusion, without misadventure
The times of which were pure and virtuous,
moments of which have changed

Remember the simplicity of life
and the days where there was only right or wrong
when dark shadows were merely the result of the sun
and not that of violence

Though I know you well, I cannot hold down your wings
for you are unscrupulous and vivid with depth
Your path extends beyond the photograph, out of the frame,
and onto the wall where you travel freely and without regret

So remember the photograph
for it has since been tarnished as well
The image no longer reflects its history,
and an age of which does not exist

We are in the presence of color,
of a world based on complexity
where there is no black and white
but instead, shades of gray





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