The Last Photo

I open the photo album,
It tells a story,
From the sad moments,
To days of glory.

Sunny days,
A few rainy ones too,
Pictures of me,
Many of you.

Or both of us,
Or everyone,
The things we lost at,
And the things we won.

They're of things to remember,
Dancing in the rain,
You wiping away my tears,
You taking away the pain.

You make me laugh in so many of them,
You seem to always care,
I like looking at photos,
And seeing you there.

The story goes on,
I see you getting old,
I grow too,
Or so I've been told.

But I'm still that little girl,
You still look down at me,
Just from a different place,
Where you'll now always be.

I skip the last page in the album,
Just like I always do,
I don't like remembering the last photo,
The last one ever taken of you.

I asked one time if we could visit you,
I still remember that day,
I was told no,
Because you'd gone away.

On a holiday he said,
A holiday to the sky,
I waited for you to come back but you never did,
You never said goodbye.